It Lurks In Shadow
by Dr. Fluffmuffin
Summary: (AU) A trip to Ninjago city goes awry when a terrifying encounter causes one of Jay's friends to go missing.
1. Chapter 1

**I own nothing but the story.**

* * *

Looking back, the day my friend disappeared should have been the start of the best week of my life.

Well, second best. A trip to the world renowned Borg Industries couldn't possibly beat the week Nya and I confessed our love to each other for the first time, but the fact of the matter is that the trip should have been fantastic. It ended in the worst kind of disaster.

It had started with a stupid science fair. It was an annual thing, at our high school, and the winner got a chance to show their work off at Borg Industries for all to see. My friend Zane and I had both entered, hoping that at least one of us would win. I entered with a flying contraption that actually worked for about thirty seconds, and Zane entered with a robotic bird of his own design. I remember how we waited for the judges to announce the winner, both of us insisting the other would win, but secretly hoping that it would be ourselves.

"I'm positive it's going to be you," I said, embellishing a little.

"Oh no, Jay!" said Zane, scoffing, "That little flight suit is incredible, there's no way they'd choose a simple, slightly sentient bird."

I laughed but didn't protest. If Zane was saying I could win, surely I must, right? A trip to Borg would be too good to miss, especially if there was a chance for me to meet Cyrus Borg himself. I remember how sick I felt that day, like I'd swallowed butterflies.

In the end, the head judge, Principal Wu, surprised us with a tie.

"Both Zane and Jay's work win the competition," said Wu with a smile, "Each of their works contains an intelligence and skill that makes it impossible to choose between, and I would be more than happy to send them both off for a week in Ninjago City at Borg Industries."

My response was a rather girlish scream of excitement and a jump into the arms of the person nearest to me: Cole, my best friend and honorary brother. Used to my antics, he took my jump with ease and a bright smile. Zane responded in a more sophisticated manner by smiling and giving the rest of our friend group, Kai and Nya, a high five.

But the principal wasn't finished, he continued, "You will have to take your projects there on your own. You will go at the end of the month, and, so long as you are willing to pay for an extra room, you can bring as many family members and friends as you wish."

That got me going all over again. A week at Borg Industries, in Ninjago City, with all of my friends? That sounded incredible. Not only would I stand a chance at meeting Cyrus Borg and impressing him with my incredible talent, but in the off time I'd be able to explore the city with my friends. We all looked at each other in excitement. It really should have been the greatest week ever.

At first, we agreed we would go together. Then, after a couple of days, Kai said he couldn't go that week.

"I'm really sorry," he said, kicking up a cloud of dirt in anger, "but I can't take off a week at work. If I don't stay, I'll be fired."

Each of us assured him that it was just fine, that we'd take plenty of pictures for him, that there were no hard feelings. Despite this, we could still see the pouty set of his jaw that let us know that he was still very jealous, and very, very moody.

Nevertheless, we let our excitement grow as the week grew closer and closer. I hate to say it, but I was almost glad that Kai wasn't going to come. It would give me a chance to be alone with Nya. While Kai had assured us that he was totally fine with his sister and I's relationship, he did have a habit of hanging around and eyeing us whenever we were close to being alone together. A week without him there seemed like a sure fire way to get some good boyfriend time with my girlfriend.

But then she said that she couldn't go.

"I'm sorry," she sighed, brushing her bangs out of her eyes, "but I signed up for volunteering months ago. I can't back out now."

"Okay," I said, trying in vain to keep the disappointment out of my voice.

"Do not worry, Nya," said Zane, "We will contact you every day with messages and pictures, so that you can enjoy the experience from your home."

I nodded at this.

Nya offered a slight smile, "I appreciate it, guys. I hope you have fun."

That left just me, Cole and Zane. I was waiting for Cole to come up the day before we were supposed to leave and say that he couldn't go, but he never did. So, on the morning we were to leave for Ninjago City, he placed his one duffel bag of luggage next to Zane and I's collective fifteen, and we were off.

Zane, the most responsible of the group, drove, while I, being the the best of the group, sat with my feet on the dash in the shotgun. Cole, the obvious loser in this whole endeavor, was crammed by the window next to both our science projects, which were stuffed carefully into two large boxes. I remember laughing at him periodically throughout the first six hours of the trip, but I regret it now. Cole was a large person, certainly taller than me. He had to have been uncomfortable back there, but for whatever reason, he was silent in his complaints. Sometimes, I look back and wonder if things would have changed had I been the one in the back seat.

The trip would have been an eight hour trip, going from our town to the heart of Ninjago City. We spent most of the trip on back roads, going through both desert and forest to get to an interstate that would lead us straight to the city, where we would pull off and arrive at our hotel.

When we arrived at the interstate, Zane turned to us and said in excited sing-song, "Only two more hours to go!"

Cole's protesting groan was even louder than mine, "Only? My sit bones have grown numb, here."

"Already?" said Zane, "But we just took a rest break a while back."

I gawked at him, "That was nearly two hours ago!"

"Oh," Zane said.

Cole let out a chuckle, "That's okay, Zane. I could probably make it a few more hours."

"Yeah, me too," I said, "But if I have to pee, we're stopping."

"Duly noted," Zane smiled, pushing his foot a little harder onto the accelerator.

"I wish Nya was here," I heard Cole say quietly, almost to himself.

I turned back so hard, my neck cracked, "Why?"

He smirked, "So I can ride in the Samurai, and not in this puny car."

"Oh, oh, okay," I said, feeling the knot that had twisted in my stomach dissipate. The Samurai was the nickname for Nya's van, a clunky, but quite roomy and overall an enjoyable machine.

"I wish she was here too," I said, letting out a sigh.

"She and Kai," Zane interjected.

 _Yes_ , I thought. Him too, but mostly Nya.

"Yeah," said Cole, bending out of his seatbelt so that he could put his feet up on the seat, "And if I'm being honest, I don't know why I'm even going. I mean, I'm no genius."

It seemed a valid statement, but we thought it was ridiculous.

"Because I want you there!" Zane exclaimed, looking at Cole through the mirror, "Er—we want you there! As our friend and loyal supporter!"

"Plus it'll be fun!" I added, "That is the whole purpose of this trip."

Cole gave a one-shouldered shrug in agreement.

"And!" Zane said with a smile, "I was looking at some places we could visit while in the city, and I've found this lovely art college near Borg."

A smile warmed Cole's face, "Let's check it out, then. I'll have to go there if you two end up working for Borg."

"That would be wonderful," said Zane, grinning at the roadway.

Raising an eyebrow, I refrained from making snarky comments, "Say Cole, do you think Nya would want to go to that college?"

Cole's brows furrowed in thought, "I'd say no; her interests are more inclined towards engineering rather than art," he smirked at me, "But don't worry, I'm sure you'll be able to keep up your relationship."

Despite my best efforts to keep it away, a blush colored my cheeks, "Oh, shut up."

Cole had opened his mouth to give a humorous retort when the sudden voice of the radio announcer cut him off.

I turned to Zane, my mouth open in question when I saw his fingers hovering near the radio's volume, having turned it up. I heard the announcer give the traffic report, where he spoke of a ten car pile up on the very interstate we were traveling on, blocking traffic and effectively cutting off our route towards Ninjago City. Much of the traffic was at a standstill, the cars parked bumper to bumper for several miles. Just the thought of sitting through it made me ill.

When the announcer finished and the commercials took over, Zane turned down the radio, and we sat in silence for a mile or two as the car carried us closer to this terrible wreck. After a while, Zane said, in his usual hopeful way, "Maybe it'll clear up by the time we get down there."

"Are you kidding?" I said, "Did you hear how many miles traffic was backed up? It might take days to clear."

"And a ten car pileup usually resorts in death, Zane," Cole added, "They'll have to get the coroner down there, and that'll take a few good hours in and of itself."

"Well, then, what'll we do?" said Zane, running a hand through his hair, "It's not as if we can sit through it, we have to get to our hotel on time."

"Ugh!" I hadn't even thought of that. What if we didn't get there in time? What if we missed the Borg showcase? Before my mind could spiral downwards into the pits of despair, Cole spoke:

"Relax, guys, I know a couple of back roads we could take. It'll put us to the north side of Ninjago, and it'll add about an hour to the trip, but we'll get there in time."

"Really?" said Zane, "You know the way?"

Cole gave a grim smile, "Yeah, my dad brought me here once because he was doing a show with his quartet. We had to take the back roads because one of them had a bladder problem and the interstate just didn't have enough places for them to stop and take a bathroom break."

I barked out a laugh, but when Cole's face didn't change, I stopped and cleared my throat. "Uh," I spoke, "So you know the way?"

"Yup," Cole leaned forward so he could look at the road, "Exit 43, it'll be here soon."

At that moment, things seemed to be going as planned. Sure, we had a little speed bump, but we were on our way to the city, to Borg Industries. We were so close, surely nothing else could stop us, certainly not on the back roads, which were far from the dangers of the interstate.

I remember thinking about the hotel we were staying in, how our window was going to have a view that overlooked the Borg building itself, and how I couldn't wait to get there and be out of this car.

Little did I know that we were never going to reach the city.

* * *

 **My first attempt at a multi-chapter story. Hope it pans out okay. A big thank you to everyone who reads and reviews the stories I post here. They never fail to make me smile. Thank you for reading this far, and I hope that wherever you are, your day is full of sunshine and breakfast foods.**


	2. Chapter 2

**I own nothing but the story.**

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"You have money for a room, don't you?"

Zane's voice cut through the silence that had fallen over us since the sun went down.

I looked at Zane in question, but he was staring through the mirror again, a look of concern on his face.

Cole's response was a groan at first, like he'd been sleeping. Then he drawled, "Of course. I've got everything I need."

"Excellent," said Zane, snapping his gaze back to the empty road, "You're welcome to stay with us if you can't find a room."

Cole smiled, but it was I who spoke, "Oh no, you don't want Cole in your room, he snores!"

Cole's jaw dropped in indignation, "What? No way—"

"It's true!" I insisted, starting to snicker, "I swear, some nights, it's like an earthquake; the only reason I can even get any sleep is because I've grown used to it after all these years!"

This earned me a sock footed kick to the back of the head, but I was having too much fun to care. "Yup!" I said, "Four long years I've endured the suffering! I could use a week of peace and quiet!"

Zane laughed.

"Please!" Cole interjected, "I don't snore, and if I did, it'd be nothing compared to the amount of sleep talking you do!"

Now it was my turn to protest, "Wait just a minute—"

"Zane, I warn you," Cole said, "Jay has the worst case of sleep talking I've ever heard. Even in his sleep he can't shut up!"

"That's not true!" I said as Zane let out another laugh, a laugh that was louder than the one he did before. That made me angry.

I had turned to give Cole a piece of my mind when the car was suddenly plunged into darkness. Zane let out a scream and I felt the brakes being slammed. I turned around and gripped my seat, unsure of what happened.

Cole let out an impressive string of expletives as the car screeched to a sudden stop. For a moment, everything was black as our eyes took time to adjust. When they did, I looked towards Zane's silhouette, fear locking my jaw into place.

"Um..." I said. _What happened_ , I wanted to ask. The car was still running, but all the lights were out. On a moonless night in the middle of the wilderness, this was probably the worst thing that could happen.

"Hold on," said Zane, his voice barely above a whisper. He eased off of the brake and pulled onto a patch of dirt on the side of the road. He put the car into park.

For a moment, we stared at each other. Or, we tried to, at least. While Zane's hair practically glowed in the dark, Cole was lost in the darkness until I heard his voice right next to my ear.

"Is this normal?"

I yelped and jerked to the side, slamming my head into the window.

"Normal?" Zane replied, "This is far from normal. My car has never done this, and frankly, I'm not sure what to do about it."

"Uh, try turning it off and then turning it back on!" I blurted.

"I don't think that logic works on—" Cole attempted to thwart my brilliant suggestion, but Zane had already pulled the keys out of ignition.

The car hummed into silence. Zane waited five seconds before putting in the key and giving it a turn. Nothing happened.

"God—"

"Try it again!" I said before Cole could finish his curse.

"Alright," the frustration was evident in Zane's voice as he attempted to start it up again.

This time the engine sputtered and coughed, but refused to start. Zane threw his hands in the air.

"Well—" he pushed out.

"Jay and I can go check the engine," Cole offered, and I scoffed.

"You know nothing of cars."

"I know enough, right?"

I shook my head, "No, that's not good enough. I'll go check under the hood. Why don't you have a look under the car and see if anything happened there."

"Alright," Cole unbuckled his seatbelt and popped open the door, letting in a brisk autumn breeze.

"What shall I do?" Zane asked just as I placed one foot onto the earth outside.

"Stay here," said Cole, "Be ready to turn over the engine incase Jay figures out what's wrong."

"Okay," said Zane, and I stood and walked to the front of the car.

"We got any flashlights?" I called.

"Here!" Cole pulled open the trunk and went digging through his duffel bag. A moment later, he emerged with a small LED and tossed it to me.

I managed to catch it with little fumbling and a small thanks.

Flicking it on offered a great relief to me as I pulled open the hood. Although I would never admit it out loud, I was afraid of the dark. While I wasn't scared of shadows themselves, I never liked the way they could hide things I would normally see. There could be terrifying monsters lurking nearby and I wouldn't know until it was too late.

A distant owl let out a hoot, causing me to jump and the flashlight to slip through my fingers. I managed to catch it before it could cause any damage, but my hands were shaking. I took a brief moment to shine the beam into the woods surrounding us. Shadows scattered from the light, and the beam seemed to travel forever before being swallowed by darkness. I really wished we could have broken down in the desert. At least in there I wouldn't feel so blinded, and trapped.

Tucking the flashlight under my chin, I turned back to the car's engine and tried to ignore the fact that the trees were looming over us like vultures waiting for an evening snack.

"Is everything well?" Zane called from the front seat.

"Dunno yet," I replied, trying to keep the shakiness out of my voice. As I looked at the hood, I noted that surface wise, everything seemed normal.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see another beam of light shining against the wood around us. I looked over and saw Cole standing at the vehicle's side, his own flashlight in hand.

"Everything alright?" I asked.

Cole continued to stare at the woods, "Yeah?" he sounded unsure.

I looked towards where his flashlight was shining, "What's wrong? Did you see something?"

"No," said Cole, "Just thought I heard something."

My blood ran cold, "What?"

Cole shrugged, "Deer? Don't worry about it. It's gone now anyway," he turned and went back to the trunk of the car.

"Okay," I squeaked, trying to calm my beating heart. _Don't worry_ , I thought, _Cole's not worried, so you shouldn't be worried, right?_

I turned back to the engine and sighed, checking the pistols, the oil, the spark plug. Nothing was wrong. It was like the car just...died. I was about to comment on this discovery to Zane when an unearthly noise ripped through the air.

Baritone in nature, a low yowl sounded suddenly, shaking the earth and my sanity as it traveled.

My hair stood on end and my scream was so high pitched it cracked into silence. The yowl was deafening; it sounded like it was right next to the car. I heard Zane swear and a thump from the back of the vehicle. In my panic, I'd accidentally switched off the flashlight, and I struggled to turn it back on. The surrounding blackness looked ready to swallow me.

The yowling softened to a groan as I scrambled for the switch. Just as my fingers found and flicked it, the car's headlights flashed on, and the engine sputtered to life. Blinded, I stumbled backwards and tripped over my own shoes, earning a rocky landing against a frosted earth. I heard Zane say my name, but it was muffled, for I could hardly hear past the heartbeat in my ears.

I turned my light to the surrounding wilderness, but I could see nothing but leaves, straw, and other things one would consider ordinary for the woods. Other than that, I couldn't hear anything, not the yowl, not the animal Cole was looking for, just the car, and now, Zane. Whatever made that noise either wasn't there, or it had found an excellent spot to hide. I felt my eyes roll back into my head, and I was certain I was going to pass out from the fear when I heard Zane shouting.

"Jay!" said Zane, "Jay!"

I tried to speak, but couldn't form words.

"It's alright, Jay," Zane was suddenly next to me, grabbing my arm and using his hand to rub my back in slow, soothing circles, "Everything is alright. It isn't here; it isn't here anymore, we're alright."

I nodded and focused on evening out my breathing. Though here an instant and gone the next, the noise left me a sputtering wreck, embarrassingly so. It reminded me of a horror movie Kai once forced me to watch, where I was more terrified by the music than the monster. Zane coached me as I struggled to breathe.

"In through your nose," he said, "Out with your mouth."

After several minutes, my heart rate and breathing were about as normal as they were going to get at this point. When I was finally able to hear past my own bodily noises, I listened. All was quiet, save for a few crickets and the car. I turned to Zane, who gave me a questioning look.

"Let's never mention this," I said.

Zane offered a tight smile, and together we stood up and went back to the car.

"It's a good thing the car started up, eh?" I said, trying and failing to come off as casual, "I would hate to be stuck here with no transportation after hearing that."

I was shaking still.

"I don't think you would have ever calmed down," Zane remarked.

"Yeah, speaking of which," I said, "Hey Cole! Why didn't you come over here and comfort me? I comforted you after we watched that movie with the snakes, remember?"

I didn't get a response.

"Uh, hello?" I said, walking around to the back of the car, "You lost in the sauce, man, because I—" I froze.

Cole wasn't behind the car. I turned and peered through the back window, wondering if he'd gone inside, but he wasn't there either.

"Is he there?" said Zane from the driver's seat.

"Uh..." I knelt down and peered under the car, "Cole? You get spooked?" I turned to the woods, "Cole?"

No answer.

Zane cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, "Cole!"

The distant owl hooted again. Zane and I paused as we waited for a sound, a voice, but it never came. After a minute I turned, shaking, to Zane, and voiced the question that seemed to be ringing in the air all around us, "Where did he go?"

Zane looked to the woods.

He didn't know. Our friend had simply disappeared.


	3. Chapter 3

**I own nothing but the story.**

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"Maybe he's just taking a pee break," I said, pacing from the car's headlights to the taillights, "and he doesn't want to embarrass himself by speaking."

It was a ridiculous thought, but it was the only thing that came to my mind.

"That's ridiculous," Zane echoed, "He would answer us even if he was in an awkward situation."

"But—" I didn't know what to say. I didn't know what to think. Cole had just...disappeared. Where had he gone? What could have even happened?

"Was he here when that noise sounded?" I asked. I was still shaking from the event.

"I believe so," said Zane, "I thought I heard him pound his fist into the side of the car, but I couldn't see him."

"Well then, why isn't he here? He couldn't have run away, or whatever. Maybe...maybe he's chasing after whatever that thing was!" I clapped my hands together. That had to be it. It would explain why he wasn't here, why he wasn't answering our calls, and why the yowler had disappeared so soon after making its appearance. Knowing from experience, Cole could get pretty impulsive when he was afraid, often attacking whatever it was that caused him such fright.

"Why would he chase after the noise?" said Zane, "It was probably just an animal, or perhaps a strange bird."

"No, no, no," I said, too wrapped up in my thoughts to acknowledge Zane's ridiculous idea for what it was, "You don't understand. Once, these robbers broke into our house, and Cole ran towards them and punched the big one in the face. That was the last time they tried to rob any home."

"But, if he were to chase after the noise," said Zane, "wouldn't he need his flashlight?"

"...What?"

Zane pointed towards a spot next to my feet. Sure enough, illuminated by the red taillight, was Cole's little flashlight, switched on but not shining. My heart plummeted to the base of my stomach.

"Oh no," I breathed.

For the next few hours, we called Cole's name. We entered the woods about a hundred feet and looked around, searched for a sign that he'd been there, but there wasn't even a set of tracks, a disturbance in the underbrush. It was as if no animal or man had been there at all. This discovery led us to the road, which we walked up and down for the longest time, searching for our friend. Eventually, Zane brought up the excellent point that there was a chance Cole might be in further danger if we didn't get help, and soon, so that led us back to the car, where we got in and drove away, hoping to find a nearby town or rest area.

For what seemed eternity, we drove in an impossibly loud silence down the narrow highway. The sense of dread that started when the car's lights went out only grew the further away from the spot we went. What if Cole came back and we weren't there? What if something happened to the jacket we tied around the tree to mark our departure? What if that yowling creature was still there, and was chasing after our poor friend?

"We should go back," I said.

Zane kept his stare on the road, "That won't help. We've done everything we could."

"One of us needs to be there!" I said. I began to fiddle with the door handle, wondering what would happen if I pulled it open, "What if Cole comes back?"

"Considering that he hasn't come back already, it is safe to assume that it is unlikely he'll return now."

"There's still a chance! Let's go back, I can stay behind and wait for him—"

"That's not a good idea," Zane's voice was stiff and quiet. It made me mad. Why wasn't he angry? Why wasn't he yelling?

"And why," I began, "is that?"

"We don't know what happened to Cole," said Zane, "it could be anything harmless to anything dangerous, and until we know which, we stick together. I would hate to return with help only to find that you're missing, too."

I pressed my palm over my lips and let out a growl of frustration. Zane was right. Of course he was right. I slouched in my seat and began playing with the window, opening it up, and closing it again.

Zane gasped.

"What?" I turned to face him, "What'd'you see?"

His white knuckled index finger extended outward from the steering wheel. I looked ahead and felt my heart rise. The trees were thinning, making way for a small backwoods town. I breathed a sigh of relief.

"Help," I said. Hope soared through my body, and for a moment, I felt everything was going to be alright. For a moment, there was a light shining in the darkness.

* * *

 **Before I go, may I ask that someone explain to me how trigger warnings work on this site? I have plans for this story that I figured the rating would suffice, but I want to be extra sure. I wouldn't want to be the cause of any problems.**

 **Have a nice day!**


	4. Chapter 4

**I own nothing but the story.**

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Just when the sun began to rise, we pulled into a sleepy café christened _Misako's Place_ that lay at the town's edge. Before Zane had even shut the driver's door, I'd already gone bursting inside, demanding anyone who listened access to a phone. There were four people there: a grey-haired woman behind a counter of goods; a small old couple sitting each with their hands over their hearts in a booth; a short, blond kid about my age serving them. All four were looking at me in varying states of alarm.

"Please," I said, my heart swelling inside my chest, "We need help."

At that moment, the little bell above the door rang as Zane walked through. There was a pause as he looked around, then he turned and cleared his throat:

"Hel-hello," he said, "My name is Zane, and this is Jay. We need help."

This time the reaction was much more immediate. The teenaged boy hurried to finish serving and the grey haired lady wiped her hands on her flowered apron and exited the counter space. She walked over and took Zane by the hand. Her eyes were wide and kind.

"Good morning, love," she said, "I am Misako. Come along and I'll take care of you."

She led us to a table that sat close to the counter and far away from any unwanted listeners. Once there, she sat us down and gave us each a cup of tea that smelled of peaches and spice. I took it gladly, but couldn't keep myself still. Somehow sitting down to take a drink made me feel guilty, like I was betraying Cole in being idle.

Mid-sip I noticed the blonde haired boy making his way over to us, an empty tray in hand and curiosity blooming in his eyes, but Misako placed a hand on his chest and told him ever so sweetly to keep serving the customers while she tried to figure out what we needed. He went away looking slightly forlorn, and I couldn't help but feel a vague twinge of sympathy somewhere behind the madness raging in my head. I also hated missing out on action, especially when it came barging through my front door.

As I thought this an old, forgotten picture rose from the depths of my mind, one that depicted my younger self staring from behind a wall at a shaggy, black-haired kid with torn jeans and skinned knees in the middle of our front door, cowering beneath the curious stare given by each of my parents. That was the night Cole had first shown up at home. I'd been told to stay away from the action as well.

A lump rose in my throat that I tried to swallow with more tea. As I choked over my feelings, Misako sat down at our table and folded her hands.

"Alright," she said, her voice calm and quiet, "What is the matter?"

I slammed the cup down with a loud 'clink' and opened my mouth to speak, "It all started with this stupid science fair—"

Misako's eyebrows rose, but before I could dive into my spiel and explain everything to her, my leg received a soft but firm kick from under the table and Zane spoke instead, "Please, ma'am. Our car broke down about an hour ago, on Highway 27 East, and while we managed to get it working again, we're going to need to make some phone calls."

I gave Zane an incredulous look. That wasn't even the half of what happened.

"So if you should allow it," Zane continued without looking at me, "May we use your telephone to contact our friends and family?"

For a second Misako paused, looking unsure, then she let out a small laugh and a grin that looked oddly relieved, "Is that all that's happened?" she said.

I shook my head, but Zane kicked me again and said, "Yes ma'am, that is most of it."

I turned to him again, wanting to open my mouth and scream at him _—because why wouldn't you tell the lady about your missing best friend—_ but Zane kept a steady eye on Misako.

"Well, then, there is a phone on the wall outside the men's room," Misako stood up and pointed towards a small hallway in the back, "It uses cash...do you have any?"

"I do," said Zane, standing up, "Thank you ma'am."

"Just let me know if you need anything," Misako said, "I'll be behind the counter."

As they parted in opposite ways, I followed Zane to the rugged old telephone and gave him a hard tap on the shoulder.

"Excuse me?" I said, "Why didn't you tell the lady who was supposed to help us that our friend is in desperate need of her? Did that not cross your mind, or am I just missing something here?"

"I am sorry," Zane looked like he was about to cry, "I thought it might be best if I filed a missing person's report before telling any unauthorized ears."

"Oh," I said, "How does that make any sense? Wouldn't you want to tell anyone you possibly can?"

"I suppose," said Zane, slipping a nearly unrecognizable coin through a grimy slot, "But I want to inform the police of our situation before we tell anyone else. We do not know anyone here."

"Oh..." I said, "okay. So...are you calling them?"

"Yes, and after that, everyone at home. They need to know of what's happened," pausing a moment in dialing, he turned and gave me a look, "I think I am going to call Principal Wu, as well. It is a school trip...right?"

I nodded, "Good idea. And call Cole's dad. He would probably like to know."

Zane turned, his brow ruffled, "I don't know his dad's number."

"Oh..." I said. I didn't either. Cole never told us, not to me or my parents, and while my parents learned it to speak with the man every once in a while, having met him once or twice, I never bothered to learn it. "Are you going to tell them about the...strange...noise?"

"I'm going to tell it exactly how it happened," said Zane, his face more serious than Wu's after a kid gets caught doing something terrible, "No missing details, no speculations, just everything as I remember it."

I nodded, and Zane turned and gave me one last statement before the operator picked up, "You do the same. Only think about the facts, not what you think happened. Most mysteries are so due to human error."

I nodded again, further terrified. As Zane requested the police, I returned to my seat and swallowed the rest of my tea in one gulp. It was still hot, burning all the way down. I thought about what Zane had said. Think only of the facts...it was difficult. I could hardly remember what had happened. Everything after the lights went out just seemed a huge blur, like a dream. The only thing that stood out to me was the yowl. Even now, my hair stood on end as the call rang through my head.

I don't remember it coming from any particular direction, but there was no doubt it was right next to the car. I tried to think if there was any movement in the woods before it sounded. Cole had heard something, but he couldn't find out what it was. Was it the creature that screamed? I did recall seeing some sort of shadow moving to my left, but that could have been attributed to the wind.

I tapped my fingers at the wooden table, pulling free some small splinters. Wait...had there been wind? I tried to think. I didn't remember any wind. I abandoned the splinters and raked my fingers through my hair.

"Would you like anything sir?"

At the sudden voice, I looked up to see the blonde kid standing over me, a notepad that curled at the corners in his hand. He was smiling a crooked smile.

"No thanks," I said, trying to return the grin.

"How'd you like the tea?" the kid smiled a little wider, straining his cheeks.

I raised an eyebrow, but responded anyway, "It was good. Never had that flavor before."

"Yeah, Mom makes it herself."

My other eyebrow joined the first one, "Mom?"

The kid nodded, "Yeah, Mom. She's Misako. I'm her son, Lloyd, Lloyd Garmadon."

It took me a second to take the hand he offered.

"Not many people come around here," the kid continued, rocking back and forth on his heels and refusing to leave me be, "At least, not many young people, or foreigners, like you. What brings you to our neck of the woods, anyway?"

I knew what this kid wanted. He wanted to hear our story, to know why we stormed by in such a panic. I'd seen the look on his face, I'd expected this, but what I didn't expect was the lump in my throat to appear again.

"We were on our way to Ninjago City," I said, so soft Lloyd had to lean closer to hear, "It was supposed to be easy."

It occurred to me that the three of us were supposed to be in our hotel right now, exploiting the all-you-can-eat breakfast menu. I placed my head in my hands and thought about that stupid traffic accident that brought us here.

"What happened?" Lloyd pressed, his voice dripping with anticipation.

A rush of anger soared through my gut, but I quelled it before I lashed out, "We broke down. Our car...it...died."

Lloyd let out a gasping sound. I faced him, and was surprised to see his expression had gone sour, to the point to where it looked green.

"It died?" he said.

"Yeah?"

Lloyd nodded, "Uh...how long ago was this?"

Bewildered at his sudden change in attitude, I shrugged and answered, "Dunno, a couple hours maybe? We were about forty miles out."

"Did the headlights turn off?"

"Ye...yes?"

Lloyd looked downright sick, "Did you...see anything unusual?"

Concern was beginning to creep in. Did this kid know something? Would he tell me what it was if I told him what I knew? I thought about what Zane said. I looked over to him from the table. He was still on the telephone; he'd pulled a chair up and had sat on it, one hand holding the phone, the other supporting him on the wall. His tone of voice indicated he was speaking to the policemen, still. I wondered if any were on their way.

I turned back to Lloyd. Technically, Zane had already told the police. If I gave him information and earned information, there was a chance we could be closer to learning about what happened to Cole. Eventually, I gestured for the boy to lean closer, which he obliged.

"We don't really want to talk about it yet, but—" I swallowed, "When we drove down...the highway...we had another friend with us."

Lloyd's eyes went wide and his mouth dropped. For a moment, I thought he was going to say something poignant, but instead, he stood up straight and blurted, "Will that be all for you, sir?"

"Huh?" I spoke.

"Thank you sir," Lloyd rattled off, "I'll see you later, please come again, and have a nice day." With that, he turned on his heel and entered the counter space. Then he entered the door I presumed led to the kitchen and disappeared. A moment later, I heard voices: his and Misako's. And they were loud. Dread pooled like blood in my stomach as I reevaluated my decision to reveal what I had.

I tried to get Zane to leave, tried persuading him, demanding him, pulling at him, but he wasn't having it. So I tried again. And again. And again.

"The police are on their way. We can wait."

He'd insisted this for the fifth time, now, and I was running out of vague excuses. If he didn't give in, I would have to tell him what I did.

"Let's meet the police outside, by our car, it'll be better for everyone in here!" I tugged on my friend's arm, wishing that I was stronger than the walking stick I was.

Zane hardly moved under my pull, "If you want to, you can, but I still need to speak with everyone at home. Besides, we can not leave without paying."

I groaned and pulled a fistful of cash out of my pocket. When I threw it on our table, I noticed Misako looking at us from behind the door. She had an unsettling look on her face. Feeling sick, I turned back to Zane.

"Look Zane, we both need to go now," I said, panic rising, "I told the little waiter boy that we had another friend with us—" Zane snapped his gaze towards me, "and now he's telling his mom, and they're acting really strange—and I think we need to leave, right now!"

Zane gazed into my eyes, then, without looking away, placed the phone back on the receiver. He stood up, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Together, we made our way towards the exit. My heart rate was creeping back to normal when the same voice that once sounded so sweet and welcoming called out in a much more urgent tone: "Just a minute!"

I gripped Zane's arm, and I moved us faster as Misako continued to call for us. She was joined in soon by Lloyd.

"Wait! Hold up!" the sound of his footsteps began to click their way across the floor.

"Thank you for your service, goodbye!" I screeched. I took off running, pulling Zane along as we went barreling out of there faster than we'd come in.

Our intention was to clamber into the car and drive away from the scary people, but it turned out we didn't need to. As soon as we'd climbed inside, the sound of sirens cut off any talk of escape. Lloyd exited the café, looking right at us, but stopped and turned towards the road. We followed suit, and saw blue lights pulling into the run down parking lot.

The police had arrived.


	5. Chapter 5

**I own nothing but the story.**

* * *

We were questioned by what we presumed was a detective named Ronin, a man with long brown hair and a cartoonishly imposing eyepatch. He was never anywhere without a gruff officer trailing behind him, and when we were questioned in the rusted blue van he came carting in with, the officer stood right outside, in plain view and eyeing the detective with a stern look on his face. Ronin questioned us independently—to heighten the scare factor, I figured—and made us give him every last detail of what happened, from what we were doing there to what color shirt we each had on. I hesitated to tell him about the yowl, but he assured me (with a rather dead look in his eye) that all would be well if I just told him the truth.

In the time we did this, he had a tape recorder sitting beside us on a seat in his car, and he took notes in his own notepad, sometimes glossing over what I thought were important details, and sometimes underlining or circling details that seemed insignificant. Like, why would he care about what sort of shoes we were wearing? What was the point of that?

"So," said Ronin as we were wrapping up, "You were with your friend the whole time?"

"Yes sir," I said, nodding.

"No cars passed you on the road?"

"No sir, not even when we went looking for him."

"And he just—disappeared—without a trace?"

"Yes sir."

"Did you see anything suspicious?"

"No...sir?" I thought, "Cole said he heard something moving around in the woods shortly before we heard the noise, but I didn't see it."

"Okay," Ronin made a note I couldn't read in the corner of his yellow pad, "One last thing, before I let you go—in your own words, what did the noise sound like?"

This question took me by surprise, for no other reason than that I didn't know the answer to it. The sound was like nothing I ever heard. It wasn't like any animal I knew, and it certainly wasn't a man. But what did that make it?

"Um..." I said, "I don't know...it sounded like a banshee."

"And what," said Ronin, his voice monotone, "Would a banshee sound like? You gotta give me something, kid."

"I don't know!" I said, "It didn't sound human, or even like an animal. I guess it could have been a feline, or a dog."

"Mmhm," Ronin circled the previous note on his pad, and reached over and turned off the recorder.

I raised my eyebrows, "Are we done?"

Ronin shut his yellow notepad and slid it into a pocket on the inside of his coat, "With the preliminary questioning, yes. We're going up there to look around, so you're probably going to answer more questions there. Do you remember where you pulled over?"

I nodded again, pleased that I was doing well in this questioning. "We tied one of our jackets around a tree."

Ronin nodded, "Alright. Get your friend and lead the way."

"Okay," I opened the door of the van, forcing the officer to step aside. Before I left, I turned and asked the detective, "What do you think happened to Cole?"

"Can't say yet," said Ronin without looking up from the radio he had begun to fiddle with, "That's what the investigation is for."

"Oh," I said. Still not leaving, I turned around and asked one last question, "What did Zane say the yowl sounded like?"

Ronin looked up into my eyes, "You can ask him. You're friends, aren't you?" he took a moment to swallow, then said, "Have you told anybody else about what's happened?"

I thought about Lloyd and his mother, "No," I said, "We were going to tell our friends and school principal, but we didn't have the time."

"Alright," said Ronin, "Keep it to just them."

I nodded and left, shuffling over to Zane.

When Zane and I hopped into our car, I could see Misako looking at us through the café window. Lloyd sat outside, talking with a police officer. I worried he would say something about me implying I had a missing friend. Shaking the feeling from me, I shut myself in the car. As we drove away in a three car line, the family of two watched us go with identical expressions of concern and worry. It left a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach, but as we left, I pushed any thoughts of them to the back of my mind.

The ride back was a quiet one. After all the questioning, I suppose neither of us had anything to say. As we drove up the highway, the dread I'd all but forgotten about set in again. What would we find when we got back?

My mind immediately conjured the worst possible scenarios, but soon the white jacket we tied around the tree came into view, and I was able to breathe a sigh of relief. Nothing had changed in the hours since we'd left. While it comforted me knowing the police would be able to investigate the matter, it terrified me knowing that Cole had not returned.

After we arrived, the police began to work on the scene, sectioning it off, looking for clues. I noticed their methods for this were far different than what I learned from watching crime shows on television. They didn't even put up any police tape, they just set up a small line of barriers on the highway, and one lone deputy towards the end of it. I figured this was because they had a missing person rather than a murder or something, which was what usually happened on television. While Zane and I were occasionally asked about the sequence of events, or to point something out, we were told to stay by the police cars, far away from where we were originally parked. At one point they made us give prints of our shoes, which I learned would be helpful, since it would rule our footprints out from Cole's or potential suspects, be there any.

At around noon, a harried Ronin came over and gave us a small flip phone. His officer told us to contact our families, so that they would know where we were, and what was happening. Zane asked if we were allowed to contact our principal, but the officer gave a firm "no", saying that that was a job for the parents to do. I let Zane call his father first, since I knew that my parents would hold me hostage on the phone until its battery died. That, and I didn't know what I was going to tell them.

While Zane talked, a few more cars met on the scene, one that had three or four items the police needed, and another that contained a single cameraman and a reporter who looked as though the holidays had come early. Several times, a few of the town's residents came up to the road, but they were shooed away before they could get too close. I wondered why they were so interested in what happened, considering that it didn't concern them in the slightest. Then again, it was plausible the most exciting thing to ever happen in their town was when _Misako's Place_ came out with a new flavor of tea.

My stomach twisted when I thought of Misako and her son. Lloyd's peculiarly specific questions rubbed me in all the wrong ways. The way he'd behaved, it was as though he'd connected my statement with something bigger, something only he and his mother knew about. The more I replayed our brief conversation in my mind, the more suspicious I became. I wondered if I'd be allowed to speak with them once the day was over with and most of the news was available to the public.

"Here you are, Jay."

I looked over and spotted Ronin's phone extended out to me from a tired and grim looking Zane. It occurred to me that neither of us had slept in twenty four hours. We'd probably need to soon, if either of us wanted to avoid collapsing from exhaustion.

"Thank you," I said, taking the device, "Say, could you go see if we'd be allowed to take a nap or something? No offense to you, but you look kind of dead."

Zane shook his head, "I will ask, but I won't sleep until we are able to find Cole."

He walked away with hunched shoulders. Feeling the onset of despair coursing through me, I took a deep breath and dialed my parents' home phone.

An hour had passed by the time I was able to hand Ronin his phone back. He must have seen the look on my face when I gave it to him, because for the first time since I'd met him, his lips quirked up into what looked like a smile.

"Helicopter parents?" he said.

"You could say that," I replied with a shrug.

Ronin laughed, "Make sure you tell them you love 'em next time you see 'em. It's rare to find parents who care so much."

That statement made me sad, but I smiled anyway, "So where's Zane?" I asked.

"In your car," Ronin said with a jut of his chin, "I told him to go sleep. He looked half dead," he cast me a sideways glance, "And so do you."

I shrugged, "I don't think the tea we drank was caffeinated."

"Hm," Ronin buzzed, "Misako's tea? She must have given you one of those witchy ones to calm your nerves."

There was a pause, and I took the opportunity to lean up against the police car. Oddly enough, I did feel somewhat calm. Maybe it was the fact that the police were here and we were on our way to finding Cole, and maybe it was fact that my family knew what was happening. Or maybe the lack of sleep had made me numb to my problems. Any situation was equally possible.

"Your parents on their way?" said Ronin.

I nodded, "Yeah. They're pretty worried."

"How about your friend's?"

"Zane? I don't—"

"Not Zane, Cole. Does he have anybody coming for him?"

"Er—" I let out an uncomfortable laugh and began to scratch at my ear, "Well—uh—my parents are coming for him, too."

Ronin raised an eyebrow, and I felt the usual blush of embarrassment color my cheeks as I struggled to explain my friend's bizarre situation.

"You see, uh, _technically,_ Cole lives with me...us. He ran away a couple of years ago, and somehow he ended up at our trailer. We took him in, and uh, he stayed, until we were both sent off to school."

Ronin tilted his head back in surprise, staring at the sky. I tried to offer him a reassuring smile, but I was certain it ended up looking more like a grimace than anything. This, and other things, was the usual reaction I got out of people whenever I told the story of how Cole and I came to live together before school. They always seemed to step back, ponder.

I certainly understood their temperament. At times when I choose to think about the day Cole showed up at our home, I have trouble comprehending how it all worked out. I can still remember that dark, rainy night that changed my life forever.

My parents and I were a cozy family. We weren't rich, we weren't loved, but we loved each other, and that was all that mattered. Dad always said that we were like a triangle: strong and stable. On nights like that night, when the wind and the rains were strong enough to shake our rickety old trailer back and forth, that thought made me feel safe.

I had just served myself a third helping of spaghetti when there came a knock on the door. It was small, hesitant, but it was still there, which was why we all exchanged looks of both wonder and worry. Who would come knocking at this time of night? And in this sort of weather?

Mom said to stay here, to finish supper and not to worry about a thing, but I wanted to see what was going on, I wanted to be a part of the action. So when they moved to answer the door, I followed and peered around a small corner, looking at the front door from between my parents' bodies.

The kid standing there was young, even I could guess that he was my age. He was small, dirty, and soaked to the skin, but with the way he was built, I was certain he could take on a person twice his size and win. Nevertheless, he cowered under the gaze of my parents, like he wasn't sure what they were going to do with him. He didn't say anything, but he didn't need to. It was clear from his face alone he had no where to go, and he desperately needed a place to stay. They let him sleep on our couch. At first he wore some of my old clothes, but he was far too big for them, and he ended up wearing one of my father's plaid shirts. For those first few days, he didn't speak to any of us, and I remember asking him questions, trying to get him to speak; he never did, so I just talked. I told him about my family, my little box of tools, and my experiences with electricity. He wasn't the best at conversations, but he was a fabulous listener. At that age, I never had anyone to talk to, or even any friends, so I appreciated it a lot.

After that first week, after he was sure that my parents weren't going to turn him over to the police or something, he told us his name. That was how my parents were able to find his dad.

People always said that my parents had hearts far too big for their own good. As I grew older, I began to understand this. Growing up around the two, I always assumed that the amount of kindness they shared with the world was normal for everyone. It's why I never questioned why they agreed to raise Cole along with me. It seemed the most logical thing to do.

When my parents got into contact with Cole's father, they called him on the phone from inside my father's tool shed. I listened at the door, while Cole, who by this point I considered my 'best friend forever', stood behind me, biting at his knuckles.

The conversation was long, which was normal for my parents, but by the way my mother kept pausing in the middle of her sentences, I knew it wasn't easy. Eventually, my mother said those magic words that sealed Cole's fate in our home:

"Well, we'll be happy to take care of him for as long as you need us to...Jay's always wanted a brother anyway, and he's such a precious boy, we'd—"

What Cole's father said next made my mother speechless, perhaps for the first time in her life. A moment later she ended the call, and looked to Dad.

"Ed...he said that we could...'Just keep him.'"

I remember Cole cried that day.

The following morning I saw Cole's father for the first time, a man by the name of Lou, who looked aged far beyond his years and had a mustache that left his mouth in a permanent frown. He dropped off some of Cole's things in a single duffel bag, promised to continue paying for his schooling, and left before we had lunch. I saw him few times after that.

Cole fit in well with the family, to the point where Dad started to call him 'son' as well. I remember sometimes I'd get jealous when my dad would ask Cole to lift something, or help him fix a part instead of me. Once we were sent off to school, it was easier to write him off as my roommate, good friend and nothing more, but there were always those little reminders that my family's triangle had become a rhombus, that Cole was our family now, too.

I closed my eyes and thought about how worried my parents must be feeling right now, knowing that one of their own was missing and that another may have been in grave danger. I doubted they would ever let me leave home without them again.

"So this kid's a runaway?" Ronin spoke again, his notepad magically appearing in his hand.

I looked at the notepad, seeing how he held the pen just above the paper, waiting for me to confirm or deny his statement. My eyebrows drew together; I knew what he was thinking.

"Yes, but he would never run away again, he loves us too much."

Ronin made a noise, like he was agreeing only to get me to shut up about it and let him do his thinking. He scribbled something down in his notepad and closed it with a snap. Then he looked at me with his good eye and said, "Okay, Walker. Here's the plan. We've booked you and your buddy a motel room down by the local Feed and Seed. We're about all wrapped up here, so you're going there until your folks arrive. Right now I don't want you to worry about your friend, or the investigation, just focus on getting some rest, alright?"

"But what about—" I began to speak, but Ronin continued his monologue.

"I've got a pretty good idea about what happened here, but we're going to need a few hours to confirm it. Just go to the motel, rest, have a meal, and wait on your folks."

"But what about Cole?" I said, "What about the car? Don't you need to have a look at it? What about—?"

"Already taken care of," Ronin said with a half shrug I didn't like, "Once your folks get down here, and if your friend hasn't turned up by then, we'll start organizing search parties, alright? In the meantime, we'll keep an eye out for him." In a vague attempt at humor, he pointed to his good eye, but this was quite literally the worst possible time for jokes.

There were so many things I wanted to say, but everything was caught in the back of my throat. I didn't want to go and rest, I wanted to stay out here, and search for my brother until he was found. Suddenly, all the hours I spent wide awake and moving around began to catch up with me, and I found myself powerless against the torrents of emotion threatening to break free. I wanted to yell, to cry, to throw myself onto the ground and kick.

Ronin must have noticed, because he placed a hand on my shoulder and said, "Easy there kid. This case is much simpler than you're making it out to be, I promise. Everything will be fine."

I nodded and tried to blink away the tears that appeared in my eyes. _We'd be fine. We'd be fine._

I repeated this to myself over and over again as I got into Zane's car. I thought of it as I got in and followed Ronin and his officer down the old highway. I thought of it as I left behind my brother once more, for a few hours of food and rest. I thought of it as I drove away, unknowingly leaving our hopes behind to die.


	6. Chapter 6

**I own nothing but the story.**

* * *

The motel room Ronin put us in was on the corner of a run down lot next to a pool topped with pine straw and leaves. It was small, not nearly as nice as our hotel at Ninjago City would have been, but it fit our needs, and that was all that mattered. The first thing Zane did when he got into the room was fall face first into the nearest bed, only to protest and stand up a second after. As fate would have it, the table we sat at in Misako's Place turned out to be softer than the mattresses we were blessed with. But after that first survey, we decided sleep was more important than comfort, and we promptly collapsed on to the beds, knocked within minutes.

The following day was spent mostly inside, for neither of us had anywhere to go, and we figured we wouldn't need to be out and about just yet. However, that also meant that neither of us had anything to do, and until Zane's father Julien arrived that afternoon with snacks and hugs, we were left alone with our thoughts.

At first we discussed the situation, as well as our chances of finding Cole now that the police were on our side. Then we discussed what happened the other night, minute by minute, trying to construct a rational and possibly irrational explanation as to what happened.

First we discussed the car:

"Are you sure there was nothing out of the ordinary under the hood?"

"Yes, I'm sure! I've looked under enough hoods to know what they're supposed to look like, and nothing was wrong."

"How about under the car?"

"...I don't know. But there wouldn't be anything under the car that would cause that sort of breakdown, and it's been working fine since, so I don't know..?"

In the end, we agreed that we didn't know. Then there was the howl of the banshee creature, something that Zane seemed oddly specific about:

"I told Ronin that it was similar to that of the alarm cry of the ring tailed lemur, albeit much louder."

"How in the heck did you get that?"

"It's what it reminded me of. What did you think it was?"

"I don't know, not a lemur!"

"What else could it have been?"

"Not a lemur! No lemur lives in a coniferous forest! And no lemur makes a noise that loud and makes off with our friend!"

In the end, we agreed that we didn't know, and returned to square one. The only thing we were certain about was that Cole was in danger. Even if nothing happened to him, even if he had simply run off and gotten lost, he was still alone in a wilderness during the time of year where the nights only got colder, and he had already spent two alone. While he was dressed snug for an autumn day, I doubted long jeans, sneakers, and a hoodie alone could protect him from the elements.

"This doesn't feel real," I said to the ceiling from the top of the bed.

Zane released a quiet hum.

"I can't believe this is happening to us."

Another hum. I looked to the other bed, spotting Zane sprawled out on top of it with an arm over his eyes. I looked back to the ceiling, following a large watermark that zigzagged its way from above my head to the bathroom door.

"Do you remember last summer when Kai let us ride in his Jeep? And Cole got to drive it?"

"Yes."

"Do you remember crashing into that tree?"

For the first time since we had finished talking, Zane peeked out from under his forearm, "I cannot see how any of us can forget that."

I felt a laugh escape me, and couldn't help but feel a bit shocked that I was able to laugh in this time of crisis. "Well," I continued, "This feels just like that. It didn't feel real then, either."

It was especially similar in that none of us were sure how we crashed. One minute, all three of us: Cole, Zane, and myself, were singing along to the radio at the top of our lungs, and the next minute, I had a mouthful of leaves and a face full of tree. The tree was small, and the damages minimal, but Kai was angry enough to kill. In fact, he almost did. As soon as he made sure we were alright, he tackled Cole to the ground, screaming bloody murder.

Zane and Nya had to pull Kai off of him, and I had done my best to see if he was alright, but Cole was still laughing too hard to care. Both of us got in trouble for reckless driving.

"We should get something to eat," I said with a sigh.

Zane was slow to answer, "I do not want to eat."

"You can't keep worrying like this."

"Give me one good reason as to why either of us shouldn't?"

His tone made me bristle, "Because it'll eat us alive. Like you said before, we've done all we could."

Zane let out a sigh.

I sat up, suddenly growing tired of all the lying around we'd done. "Let's go back to that tea place. Let's go around town. Let's go somewhere. See people. Maybe someone around here's seen Cole."

"Ronin told us not to do that yet."

"Well, we could try anyway," I looked down, "Plus, I want to talk to that Lloyd fellow again. That kid was weird," feeling something of a joke rise up inside of me, I lightened my tone, "One might even say the kid was a little too suspicious. Maybe he's got Cole locked up in his mom's basement."

I chuckled, but Zane refused to join in. Finally, I let my frustration shine through: "Zane—"

A harsh rap shook our door. I jumped and Zane lifted his arm.

A wobbly old voice called out softly, "Jay? Zane? It's Julien. Are you alright? I've brought snacks."

Zane was at the door in an instant. "Father," he said, relief evident in his voice.

The hug they shared made the room feel smaller. I rubbed at an arm.

"Have the police been in contact with you? Were you hurt in any way?" Julien held his son at an arm's length, checking him with an intensity that rivaled my mother's.

"We are all right," said Zane, "A little tired. And worried."

"And hungry," I felt compelled to add. Julien said he had snacks, after all.

"Jay," Julien turned to me for the first time, "Your parents are on the way. They had to stop to refuel, they didn't want me to wait."

"Okay," I said, feeling worlds better than I did before.

"Alright," said Julien. He moved to sit down on the bed, pulling out dozens of bagged goodies: pretzels; sugar free fruit snacks; several bottled waters. "Tell me absolutely everything, don't leave anything out. And remember," he held up a finger and wagged it at Zane, "Tell me only the facts. Leave the speculations for later. We don't want room for error."

I couldn't help but quirk a smile at this.

Twenty minutes into the spiel, my parents showed up, frazzled and worried. Despite the fearful look present in their eyes, I knew they were happy to see me.

"We've got the room two doors down for us, and another for Kai and Nya," said Mom, "They're on their way with your principal."

"Wu?" I said.

If Cole had been there, he would have scoffed and said, "No, you loon, the other one that lives in his closet and eats paste." Then Dad would have laughed.

Mom and Dad nodded vigorously, my mother continuing, "He knows someone down here, and he figures he could help out, and we need all the help we can get. Unless we find Cole. I hope we find him before then."

"Who does he know?" I asked.

Mom shook her head as she dumped several bags onto the bed, "He told us his nephew lives down here with his sister in law. Didn't he, Ed? They own a little restaurant, so we could go there for dinner while we figure things out."

I looked at Zane. He had his eyebrows furrowed, and we shared a look of understanding. Could Wu's family be...?

"So what's going on?" said Mom, "What have we missed?"

Julien looked over at her from behind his enormous lenses, "Zane was just describing the call he heard just before he went over to stop Jay from crying."

I drew back, "I wasn't crying!"

"A call?" said Mom, moving to sit down on my own bed, "What sort of call?" she looked towards Dad, then towards me, "What did it do to my baby?"

I suspected she wasn't referring to me.

"We...do not know," Zane spat the words like he was sick of saying them. I was too. I was sick of not knowing.

"He pounded his fist into the side of the car, and that was the last of him."

"There wasn't anything?"

"No, Mom," I grumbled, "we went over this on the phone; there wasn't even a set of tracks."

Julien looked up, "Are you sure? There are several ways one can lay tracks, _and_ overlook them."

"We're positive," I nodded to Zane, "We went over it. There wasn't anything; not a footprint, or even a disturbance."

"And any tracks we missed are probably being found by the police, anyway," Zane added.

"Ah, but the police are human too," Julien said, "Remember to be thorough the first time, the police could have destroyed important evidence already."

Spotting the looks on my parents' faces, I said, "How about we avoid jumping to conclusions."

Zane let out a scoff, "You have jumped to conclusions, yourself."

"Well, we don't have to talk about them!" Zane was supposed to be on my side.

"Conclusions," Dad turned to me, "What conclusions do you got, son?"

Julien began to protest, because we couldn't speculate until we had all the facts, after all, but Dad said we needed to consider all the possible avenues this road could go. Mom wanted to know how Cole disappeared if he didn't run away, and there was so much going on, I wanted to sit in a corner and plug my ears until everything went away. I tried to speak, to tell everyone to be quiet, to let us explain, to let us think, but my voice was lost to a sea of worry and uncertainty.

Zane didn't speak. He stared out the window, eyeing our car. From here, I could see the left wing of my flying contraption, the thing that brought us here. I wish I'd lost the science fair. I wish we all lost.

An urgent hammering at our door forced everyone into silence. Inhaling, Zane opened the door to meet Ronin's bizarre stare. His lone eye scanned the room, meeting everyone's gaze.

"Ronin," he greeted, "Part-time detective," he nodded at our parents. Then he turned to us, "You got some friends back here."

We stared behind him to see three people exiting a jeep that had its front end bent inwards. My heart lifted when I saw Nya pull at her brother's arm, following Wu towards the motel. For an instant, our eyes met, and I could see the concern in them, but for the most part, all I could see were questions. Lots and lots of questions.

"I know you're wondering what happened," said Ronin, refusing to step into the room, instead hovering on the doorframe, "but you don't need to worry," he said as Kai, Nya, and Wu all approached at once, "We've got everything figured out."

Silence enveloped the room as shock gripped us by the throats.

* * *

 **After being enlightened about trigger warnings, I want to take a moment to say that this story is rated what it is for a reason, and that the characters are going to go through a lot of physical and emotional pain. Further details will be posted under the appropriate chapters.**

 **Thank you so much for reading.**


	7. Chapter 7

**I own nothing but the story.**

* * *

Introductions were hurried as we struggled to create some sense of order. It was Wu's idea to serve everyone tea, a suggestion that made Zane and I exchange another knowing look. Kai asked question upon question as he was lead to a chair in the corner, none of which were answered right away. Nya just took my hand and gave me a smile.

Once everyone was served a small cup of tea and had at least a patch of carpet to sit on, Ronin began to speak.

"There's a lot of you here," he started with a heavy sigh as he spiked his tea with something foreign from a small bottle pulled from his jacket.

Puzzled but determined to be encouraging, I nodded, pleased to find my parents nodding, as well.

Ronin said, "I know most of you have many questions, but once I start talking, you don't say anything until I'm done, alright? I don't like repeating myself. Once I tell you what I and the investigators have worked out, you can ask some questions, okay?"

The room murmured various noises of understanding. I leaned forward in anticipation.

"Alright," said Ronin, "According to both of your accounts," he gestured vaguely to Zane and I, "You were driving down Highway 27 Eastside when at around twilight your car broke down."

I wanted to say that it didn't necessarily break down until we stopped it, but I refrained from speaking. Ronin wouldn't take kindly to being interrupted this early.

"We've spoken with our local mechanic, and it's presumed this was caused by a faulty battery."

Several confused frowns, namely from my father, Julien, Zane and myself, broke out across the room.

"I know it's odd," said Ronin, no doubt spotting the looks on our faces, "But it's the only explanation she could gather for as to why the shot starter failed and the lights shut off."

Zane looked like he wanted to say something. Julien just looked thoughtful. I wanted to point out that there had been nothing wrong with the battery when I checked it, but again, I held my tongue.

"So after they got out to fix it, we think you alarmed a nearby mountain lion. It likely spooked your friend and caused him to run off."

My father pressed his hand against my arm to keep me from speaking. Zane opened his mouth, but a single look from Ronin's good eye closed it shut.

"Don't worry about proof; we've found tracks."

I couldn't resist any longer, "Of the mountain lion?"

Ronin grit his teeth together so hard I could hear them grind, but the officer cleared his throat and he calmed, "Yes. Of a mountain lion, and of what we think are your buddy's."

The whole room erupted into chaos this time. My parents swarmed Ronin, throwing their many questions at him. I would have joined them, but I was too dumbfounded to form words.

I felt a hand grab at my arm. Nya turned to me and said, "Is this all making sense? Is this what happened?"

"I—" I couldn't speak. There hadn't been any tracks in the underbrush when we checked, at least none that would be obvious enough for anyone to find. That meant that sometime after we'd left, the tracks had appeared there. Some time after we'd left, Cole had come back looking for friends who had left him behind. My head began to spin.

"Are you sure they're his?" I heard Mom ask.

"Unless there was another teenager roaming the woods in the middle of no where, then yes. The shoes match the descriptions we received from your boys. Zane provided me with an _accurate_ account of what Cole was wearing."

Zane's cheeks dusted pink, but Julien put a hand on his shoulder and smiled proudly.

"So what does this mean?" said Dad, "That he's been killed by a mountain lion?"

Mom gasped, "That he's been _eaten_ by a mountain lion?"

To my left I heard Kai mutter, "Good grief."

I shook my head. None of this was making sense. A mountain lion? That was ridiculous. Not that I'd ever heard the sound of a mountain lion crying out, but I did know that it had been ages since we'd passed over the smallest of foothills.

"Do you usually get mountain lions around here?" said Wu, speaking for the first time.

Ronin shushed everybody with rather exasperated gestures, "Yes," he responded, "It's been years, but we do get 'em every now and then."

My head kept shaking, seemingly against my will. Nya stared at me, no doubt full of questions, but Ronin continued to speak.

"Look, boys. I told you this case is far more simple than you're making it out to be."

I looked up to find him staring right at me. I looked back towards my teacup, still sitting untouched and lukewarm in my palms.

"Chances are what you heard was a mountain lion, real close to the car, and your friend just got spooked. He probably ran the wrong way, and couldn't find his way back. It's happened before."

"But Cole doesn't spook easy," I said to myself.

"So he's alright?" Mom said, hope so present in her voice it was almost tangible.

To everyone's dismay and horror, Ronin shook his head, "Probably not. These past two nights have been cold ones, and if he's not in town camping out somewhere, he's at risk of exposure. Not to mention we got all sorts of critters lurking in these woods, I'd hate for him to run into a larger predator, or even just a deer."

I don't know what Ronin was thinking, continuing to terrify my parents until their eyes looked like they were going to pop out of their heads, but he wasn't stopping.

"And while everything I've said today is the most likely scenario as to what happened, we can't rule out the possibility that he was kidnapped, or that he's run off again."

Both my parents shot me a look, and I suddenly found the cowlick on the back of Kai's head to be the most interesting thing in the room.

"For now," said Ronin, "I suggest you get comfortable, get yourselves a room, and we'll form a search party to go around town and in the woods over the next few days." He grabbed his hat and put it on, standing and gesturing to the officer. For the first time since I met him, I noticed Ronin was wearing an ankle monitor.

"What if we don't find him?" asked Dad.

"We'll find him," said Ronin, with a sense of conviction that made me envious, "By the way," he said as he walked to the door, "You'll need to contact his father. We need to see if he possibly may have taken him."

Before egressing, he gave each of us a nod and a wave. Then he turned and left, shutting the door behind him. He hadn't even taken off his coat.

* * *

 **Thank you so much for reading. May you all have as wonderful a day as you can.**


	8. Chapter 8

**I own nothing but the story.**

* * *

We decided to eat inside tonight. Julien, my parents, and Wu had somehow all thought to bring various bags and baskets of food, while Kai and Nya brought little more than a hastily packed bag of clothes and a jar of puffed cheese balls.

Kai clutched the jar to his chest as he licked his fingers, saying for the tenth time since he arrived, "I can't believe this is happening to us."

Nya groaned, leaning back into her hunches, "We know, Kai, you've said that a million times."

I wish I could have laughed. That appeared an impossible feat now. I picked at my cooling chicken wing and stared at the back of my parents' heads as they spoke with the other two adults. After we'd been served, we sat on the floor in two separate groups: adults and young adults. Together we discussed everything we learned today. Or, we tried to. My parents looked to have taken Ronin's words to heart, believing them no different than fact. I thought Wu or Julien would have at least questioned the scenario a little bit, but the more I watched, the more they nodded along.

I sighed. If there was ever a situation for 'human error'...

"You doing okay, Jay?" Nya asked, "This must be especially scary for you."

I would have said, "No kidding," but I didn't want to do that to Nya. Instead, I shrugged. For the first time since we'd embarked on this trip, I didn't really feel anything. Just numb...or maybe, confusion. Of course, confusion.

"It doesn't make sense," I said. I looked to my parents, still waiting for them to turn around and ask a question. They didn't.

"What doesn't make sense?" said Kai, shoving a handful of cheese balls into his mouth, "Explanation seemed reasonable to me."

"You weren't there," I said, "You didn't hear it, you didn't experience it. Whatever made that noise—whatever caused Cole to run away, it wasn't a mountain lion."

No, it was something bigger. Something...something...

"Zane," I said, "Describe it again. What we heard."

Zane didn't reply. I looked up. Zane continued to stare blankly at a patch of carpet where the floor was visible beneath it.

"Uh, hello?" I said, giving his head a playful flick, "Zane?"

"Zane?" coaxed Nya.

Kai took a much more obvious approach, "Hey! Earth to Zane!"

A violent _shush_ surprised us into silence.

"Please!" said Zane, his voice a whisper, "I am trying to eavesdrop!" he bent his head back towards the floorboards.

After a moment, the rest of us did the same. I started listening just in time to hear a brief lapse in the other conversation, as the adults took a break to discuss something other than our missing friend.

"Thank you for coming down here, Wu," said Mom, her voice gracious.

"It's the very least I could do," responded he, "There was a time where I used to live here. I know this town and many of its residents like the back of my hand. Although—" he looked at the back of his hand and let out a sad laugh, "I haven't visited in a while. Not since—"

That peaked my interest, but Wu refused to elaborate, especially after everyone made various noises of sympathy, like they knew what he was talking about. I looked around, and received mirrored looks of bewilderment.

"Tomorrow I'll ask around town," said Wu, "I'll drop in on my sister, see if she's seen anything. Maybe even get her and Lloyd to join us out there in the woods."

My neck cracked as I whipped it around to face Zane. He closed his eyes. Kai raised an eyebrow.

"Who's this Lloyd schmuck?"

Zane responded in a low murmur, "A teen that served us yesterday morning. Jay told him about Cole," he looked at me, "And you said he was strange."

The three of them stared at me, so I said, "Well, he was! And I didn't tell him about Cole, I just hinted at it. And you know what?"

Zane raised his eyebrows.

"Before I mentioned any of that to him, I told him our car broke down," I swallowed as I remembered the look that had crossed his face, "He knew that our lights turned off. And he asked if we'd seen anything unusual! I think he and his mom knew something they didn't feel like sharing."

Kai let out a hum, "That seems really normal, actually."

"You weren't there."

"Obviously, but—"

"Hold on!" Zane's voice rose as he held up a hand, silencing us, "Don't jump to conclusions. Tomorrow, if we see him, we will speak to him again. I do not want to go barking up the wrong tree. Let us just focus on searching for Cole."

From the way Lloyd and Misako had behaved, I thought that it would have been very productive to go barking up that particular tree, but Zane was getting moody, and I didn't want to cross him. Instead, I asked the question I'd been thinking about ever since Ronin left for the day.

"Do you think Ronin's scenario is what happened?" Was it the explanation we'd been looking for? Kai and Nya each leaned forward with anticipation.

"No," said Zane, his voice full of conviction.

"Why?" asked Nya.

"That call was not consistent with that of a mountain lion; Cole would not run off and be unresponsive, not without us finding him; and we went through that entire area a dozen times," Zane rattled off reasons like they were nothing more than items on a grocery list, "There were no tracks, not of Cole's, not of any mountain lion's," Zane looked up, anger in his eyes, "The entire explanation was just ludicrous, and frankly, I am not sure I would trust the word of someone with an ankle monitor and a guard."

I nodded, relieved that Zane wasn't as blinded as my own parents. However, that still left the uncertain feeling in the pit of my stomach. What would we say, now?

"What really happened, then?" said Nya, side-eying the adults, "Are you going to tell your parents?"

I opened my mouth to affirm the question, but Zane beat me to it: "I don't know."

I looked at him, "Huh? Why wouldn't we tell them that what Ronin said isn't true?"

"Because—" Zane squirmed in place, looking far more uncomfortable than he needed to be, "What would we say to them, instead? We have no other explanation. And what could they even do? Tell the police? Would it even matter?" he looked away, "Maybe it doesn't matter what happened to Cole. We wanted to find him, and now we can. They found his footprints; he's still around, so maybe it is best we just search. Just shut up and search."

Our group went silent in the wake of his statement. I looked around to see furrowed brows and pursed lips. I didn't know what to make of it. The logic seemed sound, in a twisted way, and I figured my parents likely didn't care so much as what happened now that we were all on a path to finding our friend.

So I sighed and leaned backwards, "Alright," I said.

Zane looked at me, as did Kai and Nya. Both siblings looked unsure, but we all knew that if Zane and I agreed on this, they wouldn't protest.

And so the adults carried on about the plans for tomorrow, talking well into the night. And we remained silent.


	9. Chapter 9

**I own nothing but the story.**

* * *

Wu took us to breakfast at _Misako's Place,_ so he could speak to the woman herself, and so we could get refreshed for the day-long search that would continue until something was found. We were going to split into two groups. Wu, Julien, Dad, and Kai were going to stay in town with a deputy, asking the residents if they've seen anything, searching for any evidence that he'd been there, and hopefully gathering more members for the party itself. The rest of us would comb through the woods, trekking different sections each day.

The dry croissant I chewed through tasted more like sand the longer I thought about what we were going to find in the imposing forest. More customers had come into the café today, likely trying to spy on the strangers bringing deliciously juicy trouble right to their front doors. If their conversations were anything to go by, I'd say the assumption was pretty accurate.

"Did'j'a hear about the kid who went missing in the woods the other night?" I heard a young woman tell her husband.

"I heard he was murdered," said an older man to his seatmate.

"You know what I think?" a particularly loud man with brown hair that was combed back far above his skull, "I think he's been _took._ "

At my head turn, Zane gave me a nudge and said, "Pay no mind to them, they know nothing."

"But what—" I said, watching as anything the man was about to say was furiously shushed by the surrounding customers. What did that even mean?

"Good morning!"

The four of us turned to see Lloyd standing next to our table, looking excited, and not nearly as suspicious as he did the last time we spoke. While it shouldn't have, that fact only made me more suspicious.

"I'm Lloyd," said he, reaching over Zane and I to offer a hand to Kai and Nya. Nya's handshake was hesitant, but Kai took the shake like he was greeting an old friend.

"Mom and I are going to help you with the search," Lloyd continued, pulling up a chair before we offered him to sit down, "She's going to stay here and ask the customers, and I'm going to go with you guys out in the woods."

Kai grumbled quietly to himself, still angry that he was staying in town while everyone else went into the, "Mystery Hotspot," as he put it.

"I used to go hunting around there with Dad, so I'll probably be able to help a lot," Lloyd looked at each of our faces. I could see a glimmer of hope sparkling in his eyes. There was no doubt he wanted us to like him. I wondered how well I'd be able to.

"I'm sorry about what happened to your friend," he added a second later, his voice quieter, "I really want to help you guys."

Zane rested a hand on the kid's shoulder and gave it a shake, "And your help is greatly appreciated. Thank you."

Lloyd beamed before leaving to wait some more tables. When he was out of earshot, I turned to my friends.

"Do we really think it's a good idea to trust him?"

Kai shrugged, "Why wouldn't it be? He's completely normal."

"But what about—" I started to say, but Zane cut me off once more.

"We've no right to be suspicious. What alarmed you that morning was likely nothing more than concern. So do not treat him like a criminal, Jay!" he went back to pushing some more of his waffle around the plate. He'd hardly eaten more than a nibble.

I sighed and sat back. Fine. That was fine. Looking towards the back of Lloyd's head, I decided to leave my questions in the back of my mind, where I could focus on them later. If we find Cole, then there would be no reason to suspect the kid, right?

My eyes widened. When. When we find Cole.

"Okay, boys," Dad appeared at our table, bracing the edge of it, "The detective is about ready to head out. Pay attention to what he says, okay? Don't leave the adults, and stay alert. Tell us if you find anything."

Right.

Got it.

For sure.

Ronin lead the way in his beat up van while the rest of us followed behind. This time I rode with Mom because there was no way she was going to let me out of her sight again, she claimed, and Zane rode with Lloyd and another man inside his car, now emptied of our bags and science projects. The car's battery was working just fine today. While Nya did choose to ride in the back of our car, we didn't get to speak to each other the whole way there, for Mom dictated the conversation, going between various stories of our childhood and actually explaining what was going to happen.

The spot everything started in was no longer marked by a hackneyed white jacket, but rather a circle of yellow police tape, and a single line of roadblocks we all had to stop to remove and replace. Once there, the entire group, along with two cops and a civilian volunteer, got out and crowded around Ronin's hood, which he'd covered with a rather blank looking map.

On one corner was the town, and aside from maybe two highways, some small spots of blue, and a red line marking where the mountains began, it was devoid of anything other than the little grey letters reading, "wilderness."

Nevertheless, Ronin insisted Cole would be found, "By the end of the year, at least," he said.

"Bit of a wide boundary," Nya murmured into my ear.

I cracked a nervous smile.

"We're here," a finger lined with dirt pointed at a thick black ' _x'_ marked in ink. Ronin's good eye glared at us, "I want you to remain in groups of three."

We were to start at the place where the tracks were found (in a spot Zane and I had pored through several times, but to no avail) and branch out from there. While each of us would go separate ways, we had to stay with our group, and keep something of a line. We had to keep our walkie talkies with us at all times (though there was only enough for each group to have one), and should we find anything that, "Nature didn't put there," said Ronin, then we were to blow a whistle and signal a collective stop. At noon we would eat, and should Cole not be found by then, we'd continue until dusk.

Mom and Nya were put with one of the female officers, Zane with the civilian and Ronin's officer, and I with Lloyd and Ronin himself.

"Remember the rules," Ronin called, "Now, forward!"

I gazed at the heads of my friends as they tromped away. My shoulders sagged as I followed Lloyd, who trailed behind the determined detective like a duckling following his mother to his first swim.

"Your Dad ever take you to these parts of the woods, Lloyd?" Ronin asked with a sideways glance.

Lloyd turned his eyes skyward, staring at the tops of the trees as if the answers lay there, "Not that I remember. Most of the woods look the same, to me."

Ronin chuckled.

I kept my eyes on the forest floor, looking for the trail of footprints that had appeared after we left. They were difficult to follow; the trail was erratic, constantly switching directions and slipping past each other. I swallowed at the implications of the path. Cole had been running.

The tracks of the mountain lion were there, but I noticed they were far more consistent in direction and shape. They moved in one direction, and while they followed Cole's supposed path, they looked as though they were doing nothing more than just passing through.

The distant voice of the female officer began to cry, "Cole Brookstone!"

All at once, a chorus of other voices joined hers, singing in every direction, bouncing between trees and rustling the leaves so that drops of frost would shake away. Praying I'd get an answer, I opened my mouth and began to shout as well.

"Cole!"

While nobody's voice completely disappeared, the other groups did grow fainter as we branched further and further apart. Frequent glances at my watch showed an hour and a half passed before Ronin signaled us to stop for a break.

"I want to keep going," I tried protesting.

"Kid," Ronin's voice took on a hard edge as he plopped to the wet earth, "I know you're worried, but if you don't take care of yourself I'm sending you home."

I sat down on the gnarled root of a cork oak.

"So, do you still see his tracks?" Lloyd asked as he snapped open a water bottle handed to him.

"What I think are his tracks," said Ronin, pulling out his yellow notepad and flipping through it, "Plenty of things have been moving through here. It was only at the beginning we knew they were his because we could see parts of his footprints."

"You mean we could be following some pointless animals in the wrong direction?" I asked, panicking again.

"Out here, there really is no wrong direction," Ronin shook his head, "This is as close to nowhere as you can get. There's no telling where he is."

The trees seemed to spin in circles around my head. I hadn't even thought I could feel more hopeless.

"We'll be better off tomorrow, though."

I looked up, "How so?"

Ronin took a swig of his drink, "I've got a bloodhound named Bessie I'm going to bring out. She'll follow your friend's scent much further than we could. In fact," he leaned forward, "She should lead us right to him."

I tried to quell it, but hope soared on eagle's wings through my chest. Lloyd offered me a small smile, and I tried to hold on to the hope that Cole would be found alright.

After a few minutes of staring at my companions' feet, I pointed to Ronin's ankle and asked, "Why does a detective have an ankle monitor?"

"Part time," said Ronin without missing a beat, "Part time detective. The other part of my time is spent as a jailbird."

I leaned backwards in surprise, far backwards. "Heh?"

Ronin nodded and Lloyd huffed, "Yup. I steal things, kid. Can't help myself. However, I'm the most qualified for solving cases. I've solved more cases than half of the policemen and women here. So they let me out to do this so long as I be a good boy. Without me, most of the other missing persons would _still_ be lost. But don't worry—" he gave me finger guns, of all things, "I won't steal anything from you. That only happens after the cases."

It is a weird moment, realizing you've seen everything, but for whatever reason, I didn't question the part time detective, part time jailbird. But he did shut me up for the remainder of the break. I noticed Lloyd too, had fallen silent, his mouth twisted and eyes hidden by thick blond bangs.

"Do you think Cole's alive?" I asked the jail-detective as we prepared to march again, and I was ready to speak.

Ronin gave me a look that told me he really didn't like answering these sorts of questions, "We can only hope," is all he said.

Needless to say, that wasn't the answer I wanted to hear. Onward we hiked through the chilly wilderness, racing against the sun as it climbed higher and higher into the sky. Lloyd hovered near me for the first part, but after I refused to engage in conversation he returned to Ronin's side, calling Cole's name until his voice grew hoarse.

Practiced in speaking loudly for a long time, my voice rang crystal clear in the crisp air, but the whole time I felt like a tree falling alone in a forest; no one could hear me.

Pine cones crunched under our feet as we walked. I noticed the faint calls of the other groups had grown less frequent. Only my mother and Zane persisted without cease. Not wanting to give up, I shouted as well, but even I began to take more breaks between calls. If Cole could hear us he would have shouted back, wouldn't he?

"Is his father coming?" Ronin asked quietly a couple hours after lunch.

Refusing to take my eyes away from my boots, I replied, "Mom called him this morning. He said he won't make it until Friday."

Ronin frowned, "He can't come earlier?"

I shrugged, "He probably can, but he thinks Cole has just run off again."

Ronin hummed. Although he didn't outright reach for his notepad, I saw him fingering its edges from outside of the pocket it was in.

"You know, Jay," Ronin sighed, "It might be a very real possibility your friend ran and hid, then hitch hiked his way out of here."

Lloyd's shoulders rose.

"No it's not!" I said, voice rising, "I know Cole, and he would never do that to us!"

"If his father thinks so—"

"He doesn't know anything!" I said, feeling tears sting my eyelids. Cole wouldn't run away, not from the only family he ever found happiness in. He wouldn't run away from me.

"Jay—"

I stopped marching and opened my mouth, ready to scream at him. Before I could say anything, though, a shrill shriek ripped through the forest air, so stark even the trees seemed to shiver in surprise. Our heads turned towards the sound's direction.

Someone had blown their whistle.

* * *

 **Thank you so much for reading, and leaving such kind and fun reviews. I hope you all have a wonderful day!**


	10. Chapter 10

**I own nothing but the story.**

* * *

The whistle sounded three times before going silent, and we were left with a steady, ringing echo. A second passed before I turned to run. However, before I could even take a step, Ronin's hand gripped my shoulder, keeping me in place.

"You stay here," he said, pressing his walkie talkie into my hand, "If we need you, we'll call. Just don't move."

Before I could speak, the whistle sounded again, followed by some static on the walkie talkie, and he took off in the sound's direction at a heavy jog. As he disappeared over a gully, I turned, making to throw the walkie talkie into the dirt. Again, I found myself back at home on that rainy night, looking from behind a corner at a kid I was told not to worry about. Only this time, there was no corner to look around.

I paced for several minutes before I caught Lloyd biting at his knuckles.

"What're you so worried about?"

It was a little rude, but it was difficult to control my emotions when my whole body felt wound up like a toy.

Lloyd looked up at me, his mouth slightly open, "S-same as you, right? What do you think they've found?"

Good question. One that made me feel sick. "I don't know," I admitted. I couldn't hear any voices, or worse, any screams, so at least that was going for us.

"Has this ever happened before?" I said offhand, trying to fill the silence that had overtaken, "People disappearing?"

Lloyd's hesitance made me turn. "Not to anyone out of town," he whispered.

I remembered his face at the café a few days ago. "It's happened in town?"

Lloyd shrugged, pulling apart pine needles from their sheafs, "Sometimes. There's lots of wilderness. They wander too far, y'know?"

"Did you find them?"

"...eventually."

The tips of his ears were red, and not from the cold. I went back to pacing, turning the walkie talkie over in my hands.

Minutes passed at the rate of a snail. That, or time only went slower the more I checked my watch. What could possibly be taking this long? I grumbled and growled, picked at leaves and kicked at pine cones. The list of things to yell at Ronin about grew larger the longer we waited.

"Try not to walk too much," Lloyd said with a tone that revealed he was desperately trying to lighten the mood, "You'll wear yourself out."

There was a time and place for Lloyd's opinion, but now was not that time, and certainly not the place, if he wanted to avoid getting clocked in the nose. Turning on my heel, I held up a finger and inhaled, preparing to speak when something behind him caught my eye.

"Hey," I exhaled, turning my finger towards a peculiar grey Scots pine several meters away. As I walked towards it, Lloyd turned, following my gaze and staring for a second. He bolted to his feet.

"That's probably nothing," he said, his voice suddenly high and urgent.

I ignored him, approaching the tree and placing my hand on it. Marked with an air of furiousness across from my face were five long, jagged lines from where something had torn away at the bark. They extended from the far right of the tree and trailed off when it curved away. I ran a finger down one of the lines; they were as thick as my thumb.

Lloyd's footfalls thundered up behind me, "Uh, I wouldn't touch that."

"Why?" I questioned, scanning the rest of the tree for evidence.

"The—" Lloyd struggled to come up with an excuse, "The tree is poisonous!"

That was ridiculous enough for me to look at him, "We..." I began, "We have these kinds of pines where we live."

"Dammit," Lloyd punched his fist through the air as he twisted back and forth on his heels.

"Do you know what did this?"

"I dunno, the mountain lion? Just get away from it!"

I didn't move, "This was no mountain lion," I frowned and kept my hand on the tree's coarse bark, "And you know it!"

"Well then—a bear!" Lloyd threw his hands in the air, "How should I know, anyway? Don't touch it!"

"A bear!" I flouted, looking back at the marks.

I ran some more fingers over them, trying to memorize every detail I could. Then I noticed an ebony smear lining the start of the middle one. Furrowing my brow, I leaned closer. Was that—?

The walkie talkie came to life with a burst of static as Ronin's fuzzy but distinct voice rang through, "Jay, Zane, you there?"

Scrambling for the device, I held down the button and breathed, "Yeah, yeah, I'm here. We're here. I think—"

Lloyd approached my side, leaning so close to my face I could smell the green apple bubblegum he'd been chewing for the past hour.

"Alright—good. Zane?"

More static, then, "Present."

Lloyd huffed.

"What's going on?" I said, "What's happened? What did you find?"

"We need both of you to come here. We found something you need to identify."

"On my way!" I shouted before throwing the device into the air. I took off running down the path Ronin had taken.

Unfortunately, Lloyd seemed determined to get on my last nerve, "Wait!" he called, reaching for the abandoned device, "What do I do?"

I stopped, looked at him, looked at the trail I needed to follow, looked at him again. Cringing, I said, "Oh, just come."

At Lloyd's nod I took off, refusing to wait for him any longer. Hundreds of thoughts raced through my head as I drew closer to the detective. Had they found Cole? A sign? Anything?

As I topped a hill, I spotted Mom, the female officer, and Nya at the bottom, crowded around something invisible to me. Ronin was standing off to the side, examining breaks and fractures in the pine straw. I tripped and slid as I ambled down.

"What'd ya find?" I said as I tried to keep my balance.

"Careful," Ronin mumbled, not looking up from the straw.

Both Nya and Mom tried speaking to me at once:

"We found a sock!"

"Is it Cole's?"

"Was he wearing this kind that night?"

"Hold on, hold on!" the officer cried, "Let him see it!"

I waved a hand and stepped forward, scanning the earth until I found what I was looking for: a large, worn, woolen black sock. My breathing hitched.

"Hey!"

Zane's voice cut through the air as he appeared with Lloyd and the rest of his group over the hill. Upon seeing us, he slid down in a sideways shuffle, hope shining like a beacon in his eyes.

"Zane!" I said, "Is this Cole's sock or not?"

He leaned down and picked it up, turning it over and pulling away small bits of pine straw. I clutched Nya's hand as he examined the garment. That had to be Cole's. It had to be. Only Cole cared to wear woolen socks as soon as the temperature dropped slightly below temperate.

Zane smiled. "I think it is. It's wool, and it has that hole in the top."

Mom cheered, "So we know he went this way, right?"

We collectively looked towards Ronin, still crouched and rubbing a hand at the stubble caking his chin. Much to our surprise, he looked to Lloyd, who stepped back at his stare.

"How good are you at reading tracks?"

"Um," Lloyd blanched under our curious gazes, "Not good. Dad always did the tracking when we went hunting."

"Come here."

As Lloyd and Ronin's own officer bent down to speak with the detective, I turned to Nya and Zane, a smile stretching the corners of my face. We found a sock. After so long with nothing, this was a victory worthy of a feast.

Now we had a general idea of where Cole had been going. But that still left so many questions, such as which direction he was traveling, and why...

"Why did we find just his sock?"

Nya tilted her head, "Hm?"

I looked at the lone garment, still lying sadly on the ground, "Where's the rest of him?"

Mom, who this whole time had been looking excitedly between each of our faces, gasped. "He's been dragged off!"

"No, no," Zane held up a hand, "He has been spending the night in the cold. He probably used them as mittens for his hands and accidentally dropped one."

"So he's been going to sleep with a cold hand and a cold foot?" Mom placed a hand on her heart, "My poor baby."

I grimaced.

Before we could say anything more, Ronin stood, and the cops came over and moved the sock into a little black bag. Then they took a small orange flag and stuck it deep into the dirt, leaving it to fly.

"So we know where it was," the big officer explained to me.

"Alright," Ronin said to the whole group, "I know you guys are tired by now—"

"No we aren't!" I protested with my friends.

"—it's nearing dusk," said Ronin. He raised his arm and pointed towards the west, "We think he's moving this way," he turned to face us, his one good eye flickering from person to person, "He's gotten close to the Westside highway. The team and I are going to continue tonight."

I began to speak, but I was shushed before I could say anything more than a vague noise.

"We'll send you civilians home to rest."

This time my mom spoke, crying that she wasn't going to quit until she found her boy, but she was met with opposing views on all sides, even Nya's, to my surprise.

"Nya," I said, "We're so close to finding Cole. We can't stop now."

"We can," argued she, "We won't find him today, and if we go any further, it'll be dark by the time we try to leave. Besides, we need sleep, and food."

I looked to Zane, but he gazed silently at the forest floor, concentrating on something only he could see.

"The police will still be searching..." Nya continued, her shoulders sagging, "I don't want to stop either, you know."

I sighed, unable to believe that we were _stopping_ when we'd just found something wonderful. Around us, Ronin managed to talk my mother down, speaking to her in a surprisingly soothing tone. Then he pulled out a pocket compass and began leading her back out of the forest, gesturing for us to follow. We didn't leave immediately, but after a look, a statement, and a gentle reassurance of their diligence, we all left the officers behind.

It really had grown dark by the time we reached the cars, where everyone who stayed in town stood waiting. I didn't remember much of what happened once we got back there, only that once I got into the car and began to head back to the motel, I fell asleep with the images of trees dancing across my eyelids.

I dreamed of inky shadows and long, gnarled limbs, reaching out of the darkness.

* * *

 **This has nothing to do with anything, but today I learned that "serpentine" is a term describing the movement of most types of snake, rather than being another word for the snakes themselves. The more you know, huh?**

 **Anyway, thank you for reading, reviewing, and following this story. I hope you enjoyed, and I hope you continue to enjoy what I have to offer. Have a wonderful day!**


	11. Chapter 11

**I own nothing but the story.**

* * *

"You didn't find anything?" I whined to an officer the next day.

"Don't be rude, Jay," said my father. Nearly everyone was searching the woods today; the search in town had turned up little more than curious heads, and one or two new members of the party. Only Wu, Julien, and Misako had stayed behind in case any further clues turned up.

I grumbled an apology, rubbing at the dark circles beneath my eyes. Sleep last night had been patchy at best. Around me, the officers chatted with the search members: introducing the newcomers, reminding the rest of the rules, the changes for the day. The tasks were pretty much the same; we'd only be starting on the other highway, and we'd have a more set direction. Overnight, they tracked Cole to the Westbound highway, although they couldn't determine if he was still there. According to Ronin, most of us would be following the blood hound, with two or three groups branching off right or left.

Ronin stood near his van, next to my mother. As I watched he pulled the black sock from the bag and held it out for Bessie, a hound so old her snout was flushed with grey, to sniff. After a good five seconds, he withdrew the sock and Mom held out another item for her to sniff: an orange Tattersall shirt stolen from the duffel bag Cole packed not thirty minutes before we left on this doomed trip. Bessie gave it a sniff and stuck her nose to the earth, tugging at her leash as she began heading off in one direction.

Then Ronin called for us to begin.

I'd thought that starting on the West highway would have been different from starting on the East, but after a few feet I noticed that the only difference was that the sun was on the wrong side. Bessie found Cole's scent next to the road, but to everyone's surprise she diverted back into the forest after only about a hundred feet. I asked for an explanation as to why Cole wouldn't stay near the road, but I didn't get any.

Four groups of two were sent to branch out on either side of the main party, searching for any physical signs the bloodhound might miss. While these groups consisted mainly of officers, Ronin did allow both Kai and Zane to accompany the adults, to make sure someone could recognize anything they found.

"Don't you worry, small child."

The man assigned to Zane, an overbearing man by the name of Dareth, said, "I am an expert on tracking—I can track anything: animals, humans, even _monsters._ " With a manic grin he wiggled his fingers just over Zane's head; a difficult feat, due to Zane's height.

At this time I noticed he was the same man from the café the day before who claimed Cole had been "took."

"You see, through the power of meditation, I am able to channel the ability to track from some of the world's greatest of trackers: wolves; Komodo dragons; hyenas—you name it!"

Zane turned and gave a blank stare in the police's direction, but he received little more than a passing snicker or look of sympathy. It appeared no one was expecting to find anything outside the main party.

"And it is through these senses that I guess that your friend went..." Dareth held his hands up to his temples and squeezed his eyes shut. He pointed to the far right of where Bessie herself was heading, "—that way!"

As Zane was pulled away by the wrist, Ronin, with a steady eye on Dareth's retreating form, reminded the branching groups to stay alongside the party to the best of their abilities. As everyone began to shout Cole's name, I dropped behind my dad so I could stand next to Nya.

"You think we'll find anything today?" I asked.

"It's always possible," said she, an optimistic smile growing on her face, "I've got a good feeling."

I looked ahead at Ronin's bloodhound, who pulled tight her leash as she chased Cole's scent with avid enthusiasm. I laced Nya's hand through mine, feeling my confidence grow.

"Me too."

We walked for several hours; Cole's path twisted all over the place, looping this way and that, but overall stayed along the path of the highway. His path was in the direction leading away from the town, something I found odd, considering that Cole had known what direction we'd been heading, and that he was the one who chose the route. For the first time, I began to wonder how disoriented he was at this point. Had he even any water to drink since he left the car? I remembered seeing a line of blue on the map indicating an old creek, but that was miles from where we broke down.

I looked around as I called Cole's name. Was he too weak to respond? Worry began eating its way through my gut. It was likely. I clutched Nya's hand tighter as I tried to divert my spiraling train of thought.

My eyes found the back of Lloyd's head. He walked not with the group, but to its right, almost too far away, his eyes empty and his hands in pockets. My chest hardened. It looked as though all he needed was a day to gather his wits about him and behave like a normal person again, but still I noticed his changed demeanor from the day before. He looked now like he wasn't even interested in putting one foot in front of the other. As I continued to watch him, I began to think.

 _"I can track anything: animals, humans, even_ monsters _,"_ the bizarre voice of Dareth rang through my head against my will. " _You know what, I think he's been_ took _."_

I remembered how Ronin bragged yesterday about the many cases he was able to solve, the people he found. How Lloyd had gone suspiciously quiet during this time. There'd been other disappearances.

My mind next conjured the image of five long, jagged claw marks scraped across a tough layer of bark. Then I heard Lloyd's own words:

" _Did you...see anything unusual?"_

 _"That's probably nothing!"_

 _"Don't touch it!"_

His shoulders sat sagged, as they'd been since I'd probed him for information the day before. The longer I stared at him, the more powerful my need to spit became. I'd no doubt about it now; this kid, this weirdo from this wacky backwoods town, knew something about the woods that he didn't want to share.

Giving Nya's hand a quick squeeze, I left her side to join Lloyd's. As everyone else continued shouting, I asked, as sweetly as I could manage, "Everything alright, Lloyd? You don't look like yourself."

He cast me a sideways glance, already tensing, "Didn't sleep well, what's it to you?"

Of everything he's said to me in the past few days, this statement alone I believed to be fact. Dark circles stood out like bruises underneath tired, bloodshot eyes, stark against his pale skin. While the part of me that contained my heart felt a twinge of sympathy, I pushed past it and said, "So yesterday you said you used to come hunting here with your dad—"

His shoulders rose.

"—Any reason you don't do so anymore?"

Lloyd's voice was tight as he tried walking further and further away, "It was several things. Nothing particular."

"Like what?" I pressed, following him as he moved faster, "Lose interest? Get a job?" a pause, then, rapidly, "You noticed something dangerous in the woods and stopped coming altogether?"

Lloyd stopped dead in his tracks. I stood in front of him and frowned, certain I'd gotten him. His eyes were wide, searching mine like a chameleon for a bug. I tilted back my head, trying to come off as though I knew something more than the suspicions they were at the moment. A boundless moment passed between us, the silence filled only by the calls of other party members.

Then his brow furrowed, and he set his jaw—though I noticed it quivered—and he said, growling, "How about you mind your own _damn_ business!"

Anger flared up with a rage that rivaled Kai's, and I struggled to speak, "Look here, you little—"

Suddenly Ronin called for a stop. Both of us turned, silenced. We were fairly far from the main group now, though we could still see Bessie as she sniffed at one spot on the ground, then up in the air. She looked around, her intelligent eyes scanning the earth as she sniff, sniff, sniffed some more. Then she turned back to Ronin, wagging her tail once, before sitting down.

"What's going on?" said Mom, "Why've we stopped?"

Ronin looked around, mirroring the dog's movements. His face was the most bewildered I'd ever seen it. Upon further questioning, he said, half whispering, "She's lost the scent."

Forgetting my anger for just a moment, I looked at Lloyd, my mouth agape. He ran a hand through his hair, appearing even further stressed. The poor kid was going to turn grey by the time he was twenty.

As we watched Ronin took out the black sock and held it up to Bessie once more. She sniffed it, sniffed the dirt, tapped her paw, and didn't move. The scent had indeed stopped.

"What the hell?" I heard Ronin mutter, along with my mother's disapproving hiss. Ronin turned around before throwing his hands in the air, facing the other policemen, "I don't know," he said, "She's lost the scent."

"It can't just disappear."

"Well it did!"

"Then find it!"

"I can't, it's not there! It's stopped!" Ronin gestured to the ground, furious.

Something rose in my throat, something I swore wasn't a lump, because now was not the time to start crying. Now was the worst time to start crying. I needed to be tough, even if my hopes were just dashed back to where they were yesterday, though if possible, even lower. What had we now if we'd lost the direction again?

As I held a hand against the nape of my neck, I heard Lloyd say in a terrified whisper, "This is what happened last time."

I looked to him.

 _"KreeeeeeeeeeEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEeeeeeeegggggghhh!"_

Far away from us a whistle blew, loud and frantic, again and again. It called without ceasing, startling us and the main group from any argument or chitchat. Then there was yelling, a pause and a breath, and the whistle shrieked again.

It was Dareth's deep voice I heard, gulping and shouting between the blows of the whistle. My blood ran cold, my stomach plummeted to the earth.

Before anyone else could even flinch, I bolted. My heart pounded as loud as my footfalls as I weaved through the trees, following the sound. Upon the top of a distant hill I saw Dareth, clutching a trunk for balance and holding the whistle between his teeth. As I approached I could see the sweat coating his forehead, the red in his puffing cheeks. My questioning gaze was met with one of terror, one that made me more afraid than I'd been the night this began, the night that forever changed me.

Panting, I looked into the tiny chasm, fear crawling beneath my skin. At first I could only see Zane, his stark white jacket now coated in dirt, and I thought this was peculiar, until I noticed what he was hunched over.

The air from my lungs was sucked away, leaving me breathless and suffocating. Lying facedown, half buried in pine straw, was my friend, my brother, Cole.

* * *

 **Thank you for reading! Have a wonderful week. :)**


	12. Chapter 12

**Hello there. There really isn't anything too graphic in this chapter, but I'd like to put a trigger warning here for safety's sake. If death or the subject of it is not something you are comfortable with, please feel free to move on. May your day be pleasant.**

* * *

 _No._

Zane's hand was clenched around Cole's wrist, quivering.

 _No._

I was down there at once, though I wasn't sure how. Perhaps I shimmied down the side of the chasm, maybe I had fallen, but either way, I was there, trying to get close.

 _No._

"Stay back—" Zane's voice was strained, like he was struggling to speak through clenched teeth, "—there might be—danger—"

"No!"

Cole's face was turned to its side, his hair splayed out like a halo around it. He was so still, so stiff. For some reason, I laughed, close to hysteria _._

 _He's just passed out._ My thoughts tried to comfort me with lies, but my eyes betrayed me, they wouldn't leave Cole's face. His eyes were only half closed, leaving slivers of deep, chocolate brown irises to stare back at me, empty and cold and completely, unbearably lifeless.

I told myself it wasn't true, it couldn't be true, but Zane turned and looked at me, his hand still squeezing Cole's wrist, and he let out a noise, a gasping sort of scream.

Then there were others.

Mom appeared at the top of the trench, loud and small. Ronin followed, then the rest of the policemen. The whistle still blew, likely the only thing Dareth could think to do.

"Get back!" said the policemen.

"Shit," was Ronin's contribution.

I wished with all the shattered pieces of my heart that I could obey, that I could leave, but my knees suddenly met the dirt, and there they stayed as I collapsed.

 _No,_ I thought _._

 _No._

 _No._

 _No._

 _No._

Nya appeared, hugging me from behind, having jumped down in spite of the police to comfort me, but for all that I felt she may as well have been miles away. Nevertheless, I clutched at her hand as the police descended upon my still, still brother. Zane was pulled away, almost forcefully, since he refused to let go of Cole's wrist.

"No, NO!" he screamed, he cried, but eventually, the wrist was pulled free, dropping to the earth with several impressions upon it.

I wanted to vomit.

My mom screamed. Dad held onto her. Kai was nowhere to be seen, not that he would care to witness something like this. Then there was Lloyd, watching blankly before turning and dry heaving behind a tree.

The police crowded around Cole, hiding his face from my view. For that I was thankful; I didn't want to look at his face, to see his eyes, now empty of their telltale twinkle. Instead I stared at his feet, which were bare and almost blue in hue. The sight sickened and confused me, and I looked around to try and find the shoes, maybe the other sock, but my vision was blurry, and I couldn't focus. What was the matter with me? The earth looked like it was rising, ready to swallow me whole.

I looked back at Cole, listened to the sounds of the policemen, the world going by in a rush. I remained frozen.

"His face is stiff," said the policewoman to the officer who always hung around Ronin, "What do you think, six hours, maybe?"

"We'll see."

"Dareth!" Ronin exclaimed as he paced, "Shut it!"

Six hours?

The whistling stopped, and a new voice joined the garble and noise of everyone at the top of the trench. Six hours ago I'd just woken up. Six hours ago I had hope. Six hours ago I woke into another nightmare.

"We gotta get these folks out of here!" Ronin wouldn't stop pacing around, shuffling through the leaves like he was lost, "I'm not good at counseling!"

The officer in charge of him responded easily, almost calmly, "Leave that to us, Ronin."

The buzz of a radio was heard in the distance.

I stared at the leaves beneath me, my eyes following the patterns and intricacies they made as they melded past each other. Mom had stopped screaming, but now she was wailing, now she was sobbing. For some reason, I wasn't crying. How was that possible? What was the matter with me? _What was the matter with me?_ I looked back at Cole's feet, then finally at his face, into his eyes.

We searched for him for so long. A part of me thought back to all the times he didn't respond to us calling his name. I'd questioned why. It was because he wasn't able to, and now he'd never be able to.

He was dead.

My first friend was dead.

My best friend was dead.

My brother was dead.

At last, the sour taste of stomach acid entered the back of my throat, and I had just enough time to escape a couple of feet before I hacked up everything I'd eaten in the past day.

"Jesus," I heard.

Everything else passed in a blur. More people appeared, a coroner, a photographer, people with white latex gloves and a stretcher. Then there were others, people from the town itself, here to console the family and calm the victims. But we couldn't have any of that, not now, not ever.

I was put with the rest of my family, and as I held each of my parents, I tried not to think of the fact that we'd just become a rhombus without a side, unable to return to our stable triangle. Ronin drove us back, his face and knuckles pale. He refused to look at us, and his words as he left us at the motel were clipped. Everyone else arrived shortly after, each in various states despair.

I couldn't look at anyone else. I couldn't look at the lady from town as she spoke to me and tried to give me a hug. I couldn't look at anyone and have them see the monster that loosed itself inside my head.

Instead I thought about Cole.

My best friend Cole.

My cold and blue and dead friend, Cole.

That evening, when I retired to bed at the sun's descent, when I was finally free from all the stares and touches and people, I let myself cry.

* * *

 **Ugh, this chapter wasn't fun. I've lost a friend before, so I tried to keep this kind of brief. I apologize if any of you were triggered. On another note, story wise, I will say that I still have plans in store for Cole.**

 **All that said, I hope you enjoyed. Thank you kindly for reading this far, and for leaving such nice reviews. You guys really encourage me to write. I hope you all have a wonderful day.**


	13. Chapter 13

**I own nothing but the story.**

* * *

Ronin sat to the right of his officer with his hand upon his chin, his stare lost to the world as the other man read aloud from his clipboard. The officer spoke slowly, his voice gruff but soft, as he pointed out and explained what lay on the sheet to my parents. On one of the sheets was a body diagram marked with several red x's. I stared not at it, but between Ronin and a clock on the office wall. Originally they wanted me to wait outside, but I refused. Now, as I listened to the man describe my dead friend with incredible detail, I wished I'd stayed with the rest of my friends.

"We estimated the time of death to be at around 4:30 in the morning," said the officer.

Seven hours, then.

"The cause of death, as of now, is undetermined."

My father and mother glanced at each other, squeezing each other's palms white. Ronin blinked for the first time in what felt like ten minutes.

"He has lacerations on his hands," he pointed to several red marks, concentrated on the knuckles.

I swallowed.

"He's been bitten on his forearm—happened when he was alive," the officer moved his finger to a circle on the diagram's left, "We've been unable to identify the animal, but we know it had fangs. Our best guess is a mountain lion, or possibly a graze by a bear—"

I sucked the air in through my teeth, wishing now I stayed out in the waiting room. Noticing my discomfort, Mom placed her hand on my knee and squeezed it. She'd been so quiet over the last few days.

"His hyoid is also fractured," the officer said, "It was the only bone damaged."

At my questioning gaze, Ronin tapped the top of his neck, near the spot where his jaw met his throat. For a second I could feel again as bewilderment coursed through me.

Several things had happened in the days following Cole's...discovery. The coroner, reporters, and grief counselors alike came to our little motel room—or we would go to them—and they wouldn't leave until they, and ourselves, consequently, knew every detail of what happened in the woods, backwards and forwards:

A teenager arrived from out of town got lost after coming into contact with a vicious mountain lion, and he turned up dead miles away three days after.

That wasn't the truth I knew, but by now I was afraid to say anything more, afraid to think that if perhaps I'd told Ronin back when he visited that his story was not correct, that something else had taken Cole away, that things now would be different. I told myself they wouldn't be, but still those terrifying thoughts remained, looming like a shadow over my roaring river of grief.

"He's got bruising in the neck and head; we've found traces of some sorts of markings on his skin, but there's nothing conclusive," he pulled forward another sheet, gesturing to bizarre, thin, snake like patterns printed in copper on a sheet of paper. I eyed the door my friends lay behind.

Since Cole had been found we've hardly spoken. Kai tried to, more than once, but not even Nya would oblige, instead crying tears that never seemed to quell. Zane had shut down completely, losing more than words. In the hours since he was torn from Cole's wrist, he lost all expression, losing speech and tears as his mind traveled miles away from him. As for me, I stayed with my parents, trying to clean up a mess I couldn't even hope to fix.

"We haven't found his shoes or his sock."

There were so many haven'ts.

"Is his father on his way down here for identification?"

"I'm his father." My father spoke immediately following the statement, but his voice contained no malice, no bitterness, just emptiness, and sorrow.

"His real father."

Mom answered next, "He'll be here Friday."

My fists clenched and unclenched themselves in my lap. _His real father._ His "real" father hadn't even the decency to let Mom and Dad hang up first, hadn't the decency to wail and cry upon hearing the news. Cole's real father hadn't even the decency to come down here when we first called, to search for his son like the rest of his family was. Real father. Real father. Dad was Cole's real father. More real than Lou could ever hope to be.

Ronin was looking at me. Looking at me with that lone eye of his. I wondered if the dead one was looking, too.

"We'll continue to look over the body, but you need to start making arrangements for a—"

I stood. I wanted to go; I needed to see my friends. It was the first time we were in one place since they came here. No one protested when I walked out, no one said a word.

The secretary said my friends were crowding the receptionist; in chairs between filing cabinets and her large desk they sat hunched and downturned, heads bent like sunflowers towards the earth.

Wu was there, not hugging anyone—because he couldn't defile school rules—but speaking to Kai in a soft whisper. Misako had her arm around Nya's shoulders, holding her close as she cried. I don't know why this woman was here; she didn't know Cole. I noticed Lloyd wasn't with her, but I wasn't upset. If he did show his face in here, with us, I'd surely claw it right off, because I know he knew something about the woods and that he didn't tell us and that might have changed things and everything or nothing would be different and and _and and and_.

I sat next to Zane, because he was alone, he was alone with Cole first, which meant he needed me most. He stared at the ceiling, still as stone, his eyes like Ronin's, like Cole's: dead. With the way he sat, immune to his father's touch and unaware of anyone within his proximity, one could be forgiven for thinking he was dead too, but I knew, unlike with Cole, if I held a mirror beneath Zane's nostrils the glass would fog.

Wu looked at me, older than I'd ever seen him, "How are you feeling?"

A silly question. How was I feeling? Getting skewered with a pitchfork would hurt less than this. But he meant well, I'm sure, I hope. He was doing his job.

I let my silence answer for me. He sighed.

"If you need anything," Misako spoke in a lullaby voice, "My door is always open."

From her? The thought of going back into that restaurant sickened me, though I wasn't sure why. Was it Lloyd? The woods? The memories attached? I no longer felt as suspicious of this family as I was angry.

"Thanks, but—" I whispered, "They're already making arrangements for sending Cole back home."

Home. He'd be coming home in a box, his empty eyes facing the top. I shivered. Slowly, Zane turned and stared at me. I gazed back at him, trying to figure out what was on his mind.

"Did they tell you how he died?" asked Kai, his voice coming off as too loud for this quiet place. He received a vicious kick in the shins from Nya.

"They're not sure," it was becoming easier to talk now that my friends were speaking to me, "There's several possibilities, 'cause he'd moved around so much: exposure; dehydration; infection," _outward trauma_ had been on the sheet, too.

Misako looked away, breath hitching once. I looked at her but then the door opened and Ronin walked in, offering a thin lipped grimace of a smile before approaching and leaning against the cabinet next to me.

"If you weren't so young I'd offer you a drink," he said.

Misako's nostrils flared, and I noticed Wu eyed him with disdain, as well. Interesting.

Though even I couldn't deny the strange feeling that coursed through me as I tried to comprehend how Ronin could say what he did.

 _He's just trying to help,_ I decided.

Zane's eyes went empty as he turned back to the ceiling.

Kai spoke next, "Do you know how he died?"

Ronin appeared to deflate as he ran a hand through his stringy hair and sagged against the filing cabinet, "Nature is my guess. The way things are lookin', he just dropped dead. We couldn't find any tracks or nothing around him."

With each word I felt like I was getting socked in the stomach, "Oh."

"I know there isn't a bright side to this," he continued in spite of the glowering looks coming from all sides but mine, "At least we found him now, rather than later. We didn't find the last kid until nine months after we noticed he was gone. By then he was just a pile of bones in a sack of muddied clothes."

Lloyd's voice rang through my head, " _This is what happened last time."_

Last time.

Misako's breathing hitched again. Nya had quieted now, staring at Ronin with wide eyes.

"We couldn't figure out what killed him, either," said Ronin, rambling once again, "Though from what I remember his neck bones were mussed, too. And so were his legs, and his skull was—"

"Ronin!" Wu spoke using his special teacher voice for extra intimidation, "Do you have any tact? We don't want to hear about this!"

Ronin held up his hands, "Look, I'm just—"

"Babbling," said Wu, his tone full of bite.

I shot glances at Zane and the rest of my friends, finding them shocked as well that our principal was speaking as he was. I guessed that Ronin had been as much a character when Wu resided here as he was now.

Ronin's stare dirtied for a moment before, whether by his own awareness or by the atmosphere around him, he melted into a more somber expression. Reaching into his coat, he pulled out his flask and gulped a swallow. The room was quiet save for the sound of breathing, the sounds of life. It occurred to me how quiet the inside of the other room had been.

While I understood why Wu wanted Ronin to stop his disgusting ramblings, I'd be lying if I said they shouldn't continue. I too had this urge to fill silence with unneeded words when presented with it. As for now, although it still hurt to talk out loud, I couldn't bear to listen to the silence, the overwhelming sense of absence.

"There was another kid?" I blurted. I noticed Zane had begun to quiver.

"Yeah," Ronin said without looking up, "Little homeless kid named Morro."

Wu made a noise that forced all eyes upon him. He sat backwards and shifted closer to Misako, who stared at the floor. "He—he's dead?"

"You knew him?"

"Knew him?" Wu released a funny little huff and didn't answer the question.

Ronin eventually went on, "Yeah, found him lying in a creek. Sadly, he's one of many who've turned up dead out there."

Zane was shaking now. I put a hand on his arm. "How'd they all do that?" I asked. I was feeling nauseous again, but I couldn't stop myself.

"Same as your friend," said Ronin, "His eyes turned high towards the ceiling, "It's the forest. People wander too far."

I blinked. That was what Lloyd had said. I looked around, but only I understood this revelation. Before anything more could be spoken, the door opened once more, and my parents entered the room. Misako stood first, oddly, but my parents looked to me.

I approached, feeling shaky. Clutching Mom's hand offered a great comfort to me, even with her own shakiness.

"We're—" she said, "We're going to have him examined for a few more days."

I nodded once.

"Then we can either send him to the city, or take him home to be" her eyes shone and she struggled to say the next word, "buried."

Dad steadied her shoulder and said, "We're thinking of taking him home. Is that alright with you?"

Why they were asking me this question eluded me, but I nodded again anyway. At once I could feel Zane's eyes boring into my back, but when I looked at him, he'd already turned away. My parents nodded themselves and raised their heads to give an announcement.

"Come Sunday, we'll be sending him home. Any one of you are welcome to return earlier. Thank you for all of your help."

I wish it had been any good, but I was thankful for the presence of my friends. I wasn't sure how well I or even Zane would have fared alone. We were barely staying afloat now.

I kept thinking of Cole's half-lidded stare, forever etched onto his face; the last part of him I ever saw. There was nothing I hated more about that.

We returned to the motel soon after, driving away one by one. As we turned onto the road I saw Misako and Wu speaking out in front of the police station: he bent forward but still; she shiny as strange tears leaked over her face. I could also see Ronin through the window he pulled open. Sitting in Zane's vacated seat, he dirtied the heavens with cigarette smoke as he took a puff, then a swig from his flask, eyes returned to dead and unblinking. I thought of Cole again. I was always thinking of Cole.

As the rest of the town's little buildings crowded my vision I sat back in my seat, pressing into the cushion and pouting. Why were they so upset, these random people? They didn't know Cole. They couldn't possibly experience the pain we did.

At night I stared at my flying contraption, thinking, thinking, thinking so hard I couldn't sleep; not that I would, ever again. I wondered what Cyrus Borg was doing right now, wondered if he felt upset when we didn't arrive.

Ninjago City. We should have been there. It was funny to think that now, only Cole had the chance to make it there. That was a funny feeling, the kind that made you sick. This should have been the greatest week of my life, of Zane and I's life, and yet, here we were.

I wanted to cry again, but I also wanted to take my science fair project and burn it out back by the dumpsters. For a moment I entertained the idea, imagining that I could sneak out with relative ease. Then I remembered all the times Cole and I failed to sneak out when we were younger, and I turned away from the machine, eyeing instead my parents' forms.

Their arms were wrapped around each other, pulling each other close.

Best week of my life. This should have been the best week of my life. Cole was going home on Sunday, alone in a box with his eyes closed and facing the ceiling. And to think that Cole wasn't the only one to die out in the woods.

But I couldn't think of that any longer. My eyes were tired, and they closed, but I knew I wouldn't sleep, for long, at least. As I drifted off, I saw Cole's empty eyes, staring at me and at the ceiling, like Zane's, like Ronin's, like, I'm sure, that Morro kid and everyone else who died all alone and forgotten in the middle of the woods.

And still there was that howl.

* * *

 **Thank you for reading! Have a wonderful day!**


	14. Chapter 14

**I own nothing but the story.**

* * *

"Was he a good brother to you?"

My nose curled in as the smell of liquor filled the air. Approaching me with his hands deep in the pockets of his trousers was none other than Lou, looking lower and grayer than a worm trapped beneath a boot.

I blinked. Frowned. I couldn't help it. What sort of question was that?

When Sunday came and a truck had been prepared for Cole's transportation, Ronin's officer handed Dad the manilla folder containing everything they had gathered since the hour we'd barreled into their nightmarish town. Typed neatly in the box reading, "cause of death," were the words, "dehydration and other unknown factors."

I almost laughed.

Two days earlier Lou pulled into the station in his little black car and walked in to see Cole for the first time in months. I should have felt sadness for his sake, but I only felt angry. This feeling grew when, after sighing and confirming that the body on the table was indeed his son, his first question was where the nearest bar was. He didn't even look at my mom and dad, didn't spare them a sorrowful glance.

As my parents called my name I stuffed my science project into the dumpster behind the motel, feeling the barest trace of gratification when it crunched and splintered. I felt like laughing , but also felt like sobbing, so I breathed in and out like I'd been coached to until I felt better.

Zane traveled back alone, and he refused to look at me or Kai or anybody, and I wished I could have spoken to him and made him feel better, but I couldn't form the words I knew needed to be said. The group communed for a final time, and then we departed.

Shortly before I had climbed into the car, I'd heard Lloyd call my name. I turned against my better judgment and saw his earnest face peeking out from behind Wu and his mother before his mouth thinned, he looked away, and hastily waved goodbye. I shut the car door, and focused on forgetting everything about this town as we left the family, Ronin, and those goddamned woods behind.

Lou wanted Cole cremated, like his mother had been, and Mom and Dad wanted a casket. Lou wanted Cole scattered in the garden his mother had been in years and years before. Mom and Dad wanted him buried in the cemetery near where their junkyard lay. In spite of my silent protests, they compromised, agreeing to bury his casket in the garden his mother resided.

"Let me pay for it," Lou grumped when all was said and done. Though he didn't say it aloud, everyone knew it was the very least he could do.

The funeral was quiet, everyone speaking in whispers, as though we were made of glass so fragile any loud noise would shatter us completely. It was a cold day, the kind of cold that came with teeth, but it was oddly colorful as the garden around Cole's plot shed leaves of scarlet and gold. I didn't think it fair the world had the audacity to be this beautiful after losing a person as good as him. Still, the service was what people would describe as, "nice," maybe even, "peaceful." Though I could hardly describe the thoughts racing through my mind, the emotions gripping my heart, as peaceful. I was still upset, still angry, still confused.

Afterwards I met with what was left of my friends.

"Mom and Dad are moving me to a school closer to home," I said, "So we can be with each other."

Their faces fell.

"So we won't be seeing you anymore?" said Kai, his cheeks oddly red.

"We always can after school."

"Do you want to do that?" asked Nya.

It was an offsetting question, and I looked away when I answered, "I think it will be best for the healing process—or whatever."

Zane scoffed. I still don't know why.

Several weeks passed, and eventually we settled into a new lifestyle, one far from happy, but it became a new sort of normal, a routine that offered some bit of stability in our lives. That, I believe, is what gave us comfort.

I didn't make any friends at my new school, but it wasn't as though I cared. In the afternoons my parents and I would attend grief counseling sessions that had been recommended by the man who'd examined Cole's body. They would go to one for a adults, and for myself, a teen group. It was here I would see my friends most often, and while we were all wracked with sadness, we eventually did reach the point where we were able to joke around again.

The only person who didn't seem affected by the counseling was Zane. I figured he would be the one to take the longest to heal—even though I'd been there to find Cole's body, I couldn't imagine being the first to both find and confirm his death. Although it seemed, if anything, the counseling was worse for him. He'd lost weight; he became even more shut off as time went on, to the point where it was frustratingly so.

"Zane, there comes a point where you have to move on!" Kai exclaimed in a fit of anger one evening.

"I do not understand how any of you can," Zane said without turning back. His voice was low, but he shut his car door with a thundering slam, his face crumpled.

"That's what therapy is for!" Kai cried as Zane zoomed out of the parking lot, hopping the curb as he turned out. He shook his fist and Nya fussed and together they went back to their jeep, leaving me waiting at my parents' car.

Nya turned back once and offered a weak handed wave, her smile small and forced. I returned the gesture, equally so.

I agreed with Zane.

The following morning, on a cold Saturday that brought frost and ice to freeze the ground solid, I wrapped up in every coat, hat, and scarf I owned and left for Cole's garden, making sure to leave behind a note telling my parents of where I was going—because there was no way they would let me go anywhere without telling them, they assured me. The ground crunched beneath my feet as I made my way to the small grove where my friend now resided. If I closed my eyes and listened, I could imagine myself back in the forest again, trailing Ronin and Lloyd as we called out the name of my dead and hopeless brother.

His stone was still shiny and new, and because the grass stopped growing, the top of his grave still bore dirt, but it was old dirt, stomped hard and flat, and covered with lichens and mushrooms and such. The leaves were brown and the flowers left in his memory had all wrinkled and shed their petals. Just like Cole, the earth looked dead.

I didn't stand right next to it; I stood several feet back, trying to fathom that not six feet below me Cole was lying with his dead eyes facing right up at mine. He was so close to me, and yet so far away.

"Can you hear me?" I said, before realizing how ridiculous that sounded.

The branches above the grave shook, whatever brown leaves left on them rattling as the wind whipped by.

"Silly question," I said, quieter. After a moment, I bent forward and placed my hand upon the dirt covering his casket. The surface was cold, but the earth was warm. It comforted me knowing that Cole had at least the earth to keep him warm as he slept through eternity. I stood again.

"What happened to you?" I asked, "Why did you disappear?"

Empty questions sank heavy over the grave, falling upon the silent stone and sitting there, staring back and mocking me. _What happened to you? Why did you disappear?_

Every day I wondered, pondered those days in the town over and over, from what happened with us to what I learned in my stay there. I thought about the yowl, of Lloyd, of Morro and the other missing and dead people. I thought of those five jagged claw marks furiously ripped across a tree. I thought of Dareth and his senses, of Ronin, and his reputation. I thought of Wu, and his sad little laugh, of Misako and her tea, of those mysterious tears leaking down her face as all of us left the police station. I thought of all of this, and still all my answers were hidden behind large question marks.

Cole was here, beneath my feet, and still I felt as though I was missing something. The world had moved on from Cole, and I lingered, because it wasn't right, that he should be forgotten so quickly. He had so much left for him, and even his death left so many questions. It was like, even though we'd found him and brought him home, a part of him was still lost from us, but in a different way than merely death.

"Was he a good brother to you?"

I turned on the spot, my nose curling as the smell of liquor filled the air. It was Lou, a surprising visitor, but then again, not that surprising at the same time.

Feet crushing the frozen grass blades beneath his feet, Lou approached, his eyes on the name of his one and only son. I stared at him for a second, my heart hardening before I returned my gaze to the grave and responded, curtly, "Of course he was. Not sure why you think he wouldn't have been."

Lou laughed, a dry, bitter sound, "Well, I suppose."

A painful silence passed between us, one I desperately wanted to fill, but didn't want to be the one to speak first. So I waited, waited, waited, until the silence reached the point where I couldn't stand it.

"What are you doing here?" I blurted.

"Can't a father visit his son?"

"Can he?" I responded, "I never saw you much when he was alive."

When he was alive. What a strange thing to say aloud.

Lou sighed, head dropping low and slowly tilting back up, "That's true."

I looked around, before turning to him again, "But why are you here today? You didn't know I was going to be here."

"Again, true," Lou squinted at me from under his bushy eyebrows, Cole's eyebrows, "But I've been coming here for years. Now, I have the benefit of seeing my son."

I blinked. Years... "Oh."

Silence, then, "How's your family holding up?"

I didn't want to answer that question. Not with other people, not with counselors, and certainly not with the man who made Cole unhappy.

"About as well as a rock on water," I said, eyes tracing the wrinkled petals of the bundle of the daffodils we'd placed here nearly a month earlier.

I heard laughter. Snapping my eyes towards Lou's face, I fumed, "Is that funny to you?"

Lou quieted immediately, "Of course not."

He didn't say anything more. Which I was fine with. Of course, I was fine with this. I looked at the grave, but found I couldn't concentrate on it or any of the musings I had been before Cole's father walked up. Every little move he made, every sound, from a shift of his weight to the heavy breaths he heaved, seemed to be all I could focus on, pay attention to. It infuriated me; all I wanted was some alone time spent with my brother, and still, this man who was never there for him was standing here and taking up space. But if he wasn't going to leave—I made a show of checking my watch—then I supposed I'd have to go myself. As much as I hated it, I'd rather come again another day than spend one more minute with this pathetic excuse of a man.

"What do you miss most about him?"

The question caught me quite by surprise, causing me to freeze, "Huh?"

Lou nodded, staring me in the eyes for the first time, and for once, carrying an expression that wasn't a frown. "Cole. What do you miss most about him?"

I squinted at him, studying his face, which carried far too many frown lines for a normal person. As I noted this I recalled a particular memory where Cole did talk about his dad.

I remembered asking him how he liked my dad in comparison to his, to which he sat back, thought, and eventually replied with, "My dad never had enough smile lines. Your parents have a lot, and that makes me happy."

After he said that, I'd excitedly run towards the workshop where they were welding, exclaiming with a grin that Cole had called them old.

"Why do you want to know?" I yielded.

"Color me curious."

I glared at his frown lines on his face, "I don't have to answer that!"

Lou sighed for what must have been the sixth time since he walked up. "You really don't like me, do you?"

I felt tears threatening the corners of my eyes, and I looked away, "You made Cole run away."

"You wouldn't have met him otherwise."

"But then I wouldn't feel like this!" I threw out my hands, gesturing to the grave as if that explained it all. I felt the tears break free, streaming down my face before I could stop them. Refusing to look at Lou, I pressed a sleeve against my eyes and furiously scrubbed at them. I felt, rather than saw, Lou reach his arm out towards me, but he stopped just short of my shoulder, his hand hovering before dropping back to his side.

"I know it hurts," he said, voice sad, and, I realized, understanding, "And let me tell you, boy, it's going to hurt for a long, long time."

"Will it ever stop?" I gasped, adding the aid of my other sleeve as I desperately tried to quell the tears.

"It will," said Lou, nodding, "You'll get through it. You and your family, you're strong people. You'll get through it."

He repeated that sentence several more times, voice growing quieter until I thought maybe he was telling that to himself, too. I looked to him once more, certain my face was red and ugly. Only now did I begin to notice how sad he looked all the time, with his slumped posture and permanent frown. He also looked like Cole.

"Um—" I sputtered, "My parents have been attending these grief counseling sessions—for, for adults—I can give you the number if you—"

Lou waved a hand, and for a moment my anger arose again, but then he said, "It won't do me much good anymore, Jay. I lost my son years ago."

A stab of pain cut through my lungs, disrupting my breathing.

"But tell me," Lou looked at me with dark eyes, cold fury burning in them, "Did you see this mountain lion, or whatever it was that got him that first night?"

I shook my head, slowly. "There—it—" I thought of Ronin's theory, the same thing that was printed in his files as the facts, and I said instead, "There was never a mountain lion."

Lou's brows rose, and I continued, comforted that I was finally telling someone what I knew as the truth, "Neither Zane or I know what it was, but whatever scared him off that first night wasn't any old mountain lion."

Lou used a finger to stroke the stubble dotting his chin, "Are you so sure he was _scared_ off?"

I stared at him, "No," I said, feeling somewhat enlightened all of a sudden, "No, I'm not."

Lou nodded again, a train of thought I couldn't decipher hidden behind angry, wise eyes. He tapped his foot and bid me farewell, walking slowly but decisively towards his car.

"You'll get through it," he said one last time.

I wondered what he was thinking about.

I left shortly afterwards, taking the time to gaze at my friend for a small while. Then I returned to my own car, and began driving back to the comfort of my family's junkyard.

The whole way there I kept on thinking:

 _There had never been any mountain lion._

* * *

 **Thank you kindly for reading, following, and reviewing this story. I'm sorry to say that updates on this or any other story of mine might be patchy for the next couple of weeks, but I'll be back as soon as possible.**

 **As always, I hope you all have a wonderful day! Thanks again! (Also, my apologies for saying this, Ninjafan, but your comment gave me a chuckle, so thank you for that.)**


	15. Chapter 15

**I own nothing but the story.**

* * *

 _"Can you hear me?"_

 _The trees are black against a deep amethyst sky painted with salmon tinted clouds. It is dusk, from what I can understand._

 _I look around, my hand absently rubbing the nape of my neck as I wondered how on earth I got here. I am in the forest again, though, unsure of where exactly I am in the forest. All around me stand trees, oddly angular and sharp, their branches reaching far and wide. The shadows are an inky in the fading light, sitting stark against the orange of the sun. I look at these shadows, confused, but not at all concerned as I question the voice that had spoken._

 _I listen for it again, certain I've heard that voice before, and I suddenly spot a figure standing alone several meters away, halfway in and out of pine's shadow, sort of there, but then again—not. I bolt to my feet, not quite alarmed, but curious._

That's weird, _I think. I'm feeling calm. It's been a while since I've been this calm, and frankly, I shouldn't be this calm._

 _I assess the figure, studying it as it studies me, until I hear the voice again, coming straight from the figure itself._

 _"Can you hear me?"_

I know that voice _, I think. I know that voice!_

 _"Cole?!" my voice cracks._

 _The figure's head cocks, and I see the distinct shape of what can only be shaggy, black hair. Then he says, "Jay?"_

 _I bolt towards him, eyes watering as I tackle him into a bear hug. I feel nothing as we hit the forest floor, and I say, over and over again, "Cole, Cole, Cole, Cole!"_

 _"Are you alright?" he asks, concern in his voice._

 _I struggle to comprehend this. Concern? Concern for me? After what happened to him? I laugh until it sounds like a sob, and I pull back just enough so I can see his face._

 _His brown eyes sparkle in the setting sun, tinged tuscan red at the rims, and I nearly cry right there. His hand is in my hair, holding my head up and feeling so wonderfully real._

 _"You're here!" I say, trying not to question how, or why. He is here; that's all that matters._

 _Cole laughs, grinning that toothy grin of his and smiling so wide his dimples show. Oh, how I missed seeing those, being the cause of their appearance._

 _"Of course I am!" he responds, pushing me off and sitting up onto his hunches, "I'm still here."_

 _I scramble to my feet, hopping on my heels as I look my brother over. His looks vary only slightly since the day we lost him; his socks and shoes are missing, and I notice the bruises still line his neck and top his head, and his hoodie is torn where his forearm is and on his knuckles and hands are the marks of a fight, are the marks of defense, but all the same I do not care because Cole is alive and he is sitting right here in front of me, and I'm feeling so happy I can almost burst and I'm certain if I don't do something soon I will and that would be awful awful awful—_

 _I take a deep breath, then another, the smile remaining on my face._

 _Cole grins as he stands up, "You missed me?"_

 _"Missed you?" I laugh and feel the tears strike my eyes again, "You haven't a clue..." a thought hits me and I bounce, "Just wait until I tell Zane and the others! We've all been so sad without you—Zane's probably lost like, ten pounds!"_

 _Cole's smile wavers and I stop talking, because I didn't want Cole to make that face here, not when we were both supposed to be happy._

 _"I haven't been gone that long," Cole says, gaze turning towards the earth._

 _I pull both hands through my hair, unbelieving but trying still to keep a smiling face, "Cole, it's been nearly two months_. _"_

 _Cole's mouth rounds out into an 'O' as his voice fills the subsequent sound. I laugh and hug him again, because he is so precious and he's right here in my arms and I just want to hold him close, and take him home._

 _"It doesn't matter," I say, "You're here now, and that's all that matters. Now we can go home!"_

 _"Home," Cole echoes, eyes glistening as he looks at the last of the sun, "That sounds wonderful."_

 _"Then let's go!" I say, taking his hand, "Let's go home! Mom and Dad are going to flip when they see you!"_

 _I hear faint laughter, laughter that isn't mine or Cole's, echo around us, but I pay no mind to it as I pull Cole towards the direction of the sun. I remember Ronin said Cole had gone to the Westside Highway._

 _"Maybe we can get you a cake," I say, "A nice big one! One that would take a week to eat!"_

 _"I think you underestimate my power," Cole jokes, and I almost cry again, because heavens above, did I miss this._

 _We trek through a while longer until I decide that we aren't talking nearly enough, and make to fix that problem._

 _"So what are you still doing here?" I say, "And why'd you run off? Zane and I could've protected you from danger."_

 _"I don't know," Cole looks at the ground, then the trees, as he frowns and thinks, "I never would have run away from you guys."_

 _The laughter is growing louder._

 _"I can't believe you've been here the whole time," I say, "I thought we'd found you before." I remember we'd found Cole by the Westside Highway, and I stop._

 _Cole bumps into me. "I'm still here," is all he says._

 _I hesitate to move forward. Cole had gone to the Westside highway and that was where we found him in the gully. I turn around._

 _"Let's go to the east highway," I say, "Maybe Zane is still there waiting for us."_

 _Cole shakes his head, "You left."_

 _My heart drops and I stare at him, studying his face. It isn't accusing, isn't concerned. I move on._

 _"We came back," I reply._

 _Cole doesn't respond, but I don't care. I just want to focus on how happy I am to see him. The laughter is growing louder, to the point where it is getting harder to ignore. But I push on by, squinting as I try to see through the shadows. I notice Cole is getting antsy._

 _"Everything alright?" I ask._

 _He looks at me, his eyes darting over my face, then looks down, "Everything's fine."_

 _"You nervous?"_

 _"A little."_

 _"Whatever for?" I ask, raising my voice to be heard over the sounds of that bizarre laugh. For a second, I glance around and try to figure out its source._

 _Cole pauses, doesn't answer the question. "I want to go home," he says, "It's dark."_

 _"The sun will be back up tomorrow," I say, frowning as Cole begins backing away, "It's reliable like that." I step forward, still looking around for the source of laughter, "Come on, Cole. Zane's waiting for us in his car."_

 _The laughter grows louder and louder, until it is all I hear. Pressing my hands to my ears to block the maniacal sound, I shout for silence. But it doesn't stop, and the next time I look at Cole he isn't there anymore._

 _I begin to panic. "Cole!" I shout. I look around, but there is no light, or brother, just trees shrinking off into infinity and shadow to shroud my senses. I shout again, crying to be heard over the laughter._

 _Cole._

 _Cole._

 _Cole._

 _Cole._

 _This isn't fair, I decide. He's been gone nearly two months and I spend time with him for only a...only a..._

 _I look up and see the moon smiling at me with all of its white fangs on display. The moon is laughing at me, laughing at my distress. I curse at the moon._

 _I'm not sure how long I've been here. Hours? Minutes? Days? Where was Cole?_

 _"I'm still here," comes a voice, but it isn't Cole's. There are other voices, ones that echo the same statement, and I turn around and ask again:_

 _"Cole?"_

 _The moon laughs and I shout, but I get no answers. So I continue to stumble through the choking darkness, hands pressed to my ears and eyes wide and frantic. And I call, over and over again, "Cole! Cole! Cole?"_

* * *

I woke up in a cold sweat, tangling my sheets as I twisted across and out of my bed. The trailer shook as I thumped onto the floor, and I glanced anxiously past the couch Cole used to sleep on and to the curtain that my parents' bedroom lay behind.

A second later, the telephone rang, perhaps having started already. Rubbing at my head and pulling the blankets off of me, I looked at it and inhaled, trying to calm my racing heart. What happened? Where was Cole? How had I returned here? I couldn't think straight.

When no sound came from behind my parents' curtain, I stood up and tiptoed to the phone, watching it as it rang one, two, three more times. I checked the number.

Out of area.

I blinked and I saw Cole's eyes staring at me, full of concern and life. I dig my palms into my eyelids, breathing in and out some more. A dream, that must have been a dream. And what a cruel dream at that, to start out as nice as it did.

The phone rings again and I hear a body shift behind the curtain. Teeth clenching, I reached for the phone and held it to my ear.

"Cole?" I whispered before I could stop myself. "Sorry—I mean—hello?"

The other end is quiet, save for the sound of strange gasping.

"Hello?" I asked again, looking at the phone's number and considering hanging up.

Then I heard, "Can you hear me?"

Strange words that rang through my dreams were now echoing back in reality, and for a moment I stood dumbfounded as the caller asked the question again. Only this time, it wasn't Cole who was asking the question, it was—

"Lloyd?"

* * *

 **Thank you for reading, following, and reviewing. You guys are the greatest, and I hope you each have a fantastic week. :)**


	16. Chapter 16

**I own nothing but the story.**

* * *

One hand braced the edge of the kitchen sink as the other held the telephone aloft.

"I need to speak with you," came Lloyd's voice, sounding strained and tinny, "Are you sitting down?"

Pent up anger and regret tore through my gut, hindered only by tired curiosity, "How did you get this number?"

"Does that matter?" said Lloyd, sounding just a little too testy for my liking.

"I could hang up right now..."

"No!" Lloyd cried, loud enough to make me glance at my parents' curtain again. "I got it from Ronin."

"Isn't that classified?"

"He was off duty."

I pursed my lips and then pulled them into a line. Alright. "What do you want?" I said at last.

The gasping, fearful tone of voice came again, "I need to talk to you about your friend, and I wanted to tell you way back when you were here, Mom didn't—doesn't want me to talk about it, but I have to, Jay, I just have to, or else I'm gonna—"

"Calm down!" I stared at the curtain my parents lay behind and grit my teeth together, angry enough to hang up, but agitated enough to keep him on the line, "Look, what do you have to tell me? Make it quick!"

"There is something in the woods, and I think it took your friend."

I was silent following this. While at this point I knew from the beginning that Lloyd was hiding something, to hear him confirm my suspicions was enough to send me spiraling. It felt as though someone had pulled plugs from my ankles, so that the blood could drain out of me completely.

"Hello? Hello?" Lloyd said, after I'd been quiet for too long.

Taking one last look around, I leaned close into the phone and said, "I'm going to transfer you over to the phone in my parents' toolshed, so sit tight, okay?"

Relief was evident in Lloyd's voice as he responded, "Okay."

I began transferring the call, and afterwards placed the phone back on the receiver. For a moment I debated calling Zane and demanding him to come over right this instant, but decided against it. I didn't know if what Lloyd was going to say was legitimate, and from the way Zane had been behaving over the past few weeks, I doubted he'd even answer my call.

So alone I went into the toolshed, picking up on the call and sitting with a flop upon several crates and cardboard boxes.

"What've you got for me, Lloyd?" I muttered to myself as I waited for him to speak.

"Can you hear me alright?" he said first, forcing me to wince.

"Yeah, yeah," I replied, trying to block that cruel dream from my thoughts. Now I needed to stay in reality, terrible as it may be, "So what are you calling me for? Why won't your mom let you say this?"

"Well," Lloyd said, his voice crackling, "She says she doesn't believe it, but I know she knows something is up, and she just doesn't want me to talk about it, but I think—"

"What's this 'it'?" I interject, feeling the need to retrieve a notebook and pencil, "Start at the beginning."

"The beginning," Lloyd sighed, and for a moment I could almost picture him, sitting alone in his café's booth, or wherever he was calling from, running his fingers through his hair, "That was—I suppose it started long ago."

I nodded even though he couldn't see me. "Yes," I said into the phone.

Lloyd was silent, and all I could hear was some faint buzzing before he continued again, almost whispering, "Do you remember when I told you my dad used to take me hunting in the woods?"

"Yes."

"Well, that all ended about eight years ago."

"How so?" I picked up a pencil and began tapping it against the spokes of a nearby dismembered bicycle wheel.

"One day, at the beginning of quail season, I think, Dad went out early in the morning, before the sun had even come up. By the end of the day, he hadn't returned."

I sat straight, repressing a shiver as my blood cooled, "O-Oh?"

"Tons of people went looking for him—he was very well liked, in his day—but they didn't find him until the following morning. It was Ronin who found him, in fact."

"And your dad was—" I hesitated to say, "dead?"

"He wasn't, not yet," said Lloyd, "He was so, so sick, and pale. I got to see him as they were bringing him inside—we had no phone reception out there, back then, so no one called the doctor—and, and he was sick, and his hand wouldn't stop bleeding, no matter how much they bandaged it, and he was vomiting this horrible, black stuff all over the place."

I swallowed.

"I suppose there's a natural explanation for the whole thing," Lloyd huffed, "but he was doing just fine, like—everyone thought that he'd be okay—"

I bit my lip, hard.

"But, maybe ten minutes before the doctor arrived, he looked at me, and he just— _died."_

I was silent; I didn't know what to say.

"And the weirdest thing was, was what he said before he died. He looked at me, and he said, 'It was so pretty,' and those were his last words."

My brow furrowed, "It was so pretty?"

A bit of shuffling on the other end told me Lloyd was nodding, "No one ever figured out what 'it' was. We still don't know."

"Hm," I thought, then said, "So you think something in the woods got your dad? That doesn't sound like what happened to Cole."

"Not now, it doesn't," Lloyd continued, and I think I heard his voice crack, but he moved on before I could say anything, "About four months after we buried him, another person went missing, a man named Clouse."

I noticed his voice deepened upon uttering the name.

"I don't know much about him, though I know he and Dad were never friendly. He even once attacked him, after one too many drinks." There was a moment of silence as Lloyd took the time to sigh, "He was found five weeks later, all bloated and stinking in some roadside watershed. It was assumed he got lost and nature took care of him, but no one was ever sure..."

I put a hand to my chin, leaning against a stack of boxes for support.

"People didn't really think much of it until later, when a man named Chen disappeared, too."

At this point I scrambled for a sheet of paper, pulling my dad's log out from a under a pile of screw heads, as I wrote down the names of the three people.

"This one was a lot like what happened with your friend, except nobody missed this guy," the phone clicked as Lloyd moved around on the other end. Thankfully he was growing more and more comfortable as he continued to talk, "Everyone knew he hit his daughter a lot at home. So we all thought he got what he deserved. She now owns the business he used to run, a restaurant with her namesake. They left together back then to try and open a second business over in the Wailing Alps. They went up the East highway."

I wrote that down next to Chen's name, before adding the word 'daughter' underneath, despite knowing of her supposed survival. In doing so, I was surprised to find myself more diligent in note taking than I'd been in a long time. I felt a smirk, but couldn't appreciate it long as Lloyd continued his curious tale.

"I'm not actually sure what happened—only she really knows the truth—but she came into our little café, just like you, and she said that her father was missing."

"She just stated it outright?"

There was further rustling on the other end, "Yup, and what really struck me was how calm she was. She wasn't sad or scared or anything. This all happened within the same year."

My mouth dropped. Three people in the same year? I repeated the thought aloud, unbelieving.

"Yes," said Lloyd, his tone shifting back to a frantic sort of somber, "Three. It started with Dad," he paused, and for a moment there was quiet before he continued again, "That's when these rumors started. That there was something in the woods...attacking people. They were mostly groundless, but Skylor said she saw something. She never specified..."

I could only assume that Skylor was the Chen girl.

Lloyd was quiet for a while, so long I had to repeat the question he'd asked me when I did the same action earlier. "Hello?"

There was a beat or two, and at last I heard Lloyd speak:

"And then all was quiet."

An eyebrow of mine arched, but I said nothing, instead waiting for Lloyd to proceed.

"Chen was found about a year after Miss Skylor came into our café. He'd already been picked over by wildlife; most of his skeleton was gone. But for three years, that was it. Whatever rumors were going on around then died as time and people moved on. All was quiet. All was quiet..." Lloyd repeated that one more time, "But then there disappeared a man named Wrayth. He was...a menace. He used to ride through the streets at night, cackling and waving chains. Sometimes he'd use 'em to demolish public property. Sometimes it'd be a person. He nearly broke Mom's leg once; she still won't let me go out after dark, though now I'm certain it's for different reasons. He did his usual shtick one night, and disappeared right off the face of the earth. Ronin looked for him with that hound of his, but he's still gone."

I copied that name down.

"No one knows for sure if he suffered the same fate as Dad and the others, but all they found was his motorcycle. It was on the Eastside Highway."

By this point I was chewing my lip so hard it had begun to bleed, but I didn't stop. Dread, nausea, and anticipation drilled through me all at once. Four names. Four names, now.

"That started the rumors again, and this time, more people began to pay attention. That Dareth man went to the Alps and back, and when he returned, he told of his car breaking down, and that he saw a—a monster in the woods, one as tall as the pines, that had gangly limbs and eyes that glowed like hellfire. He said that he was just driving along, and that his lights went out, but he was too scared to get out of the car. I guess that was when he saw—it."

I wrote down Dareth's name and swallowed, sickened knowing that staying _in_ the car was what led someone like Dareth to survive this encounter. Yet that was, of course, if what he saw was true.

"He came into the café and told his story. He's always laughed at, but he still tells it today. Then more people began to see this supposed, 'thing'. They'd see it in their yards, roaming the streets, dragging animal carcasses through the woods at night. Their descriptions varied, but were the same at the core. It would be something large, something that lurked in the darkest of shadows, there an instant and gone the next. Mom told me not to pay any attention to them. I don't, mostly, except for some."

Lloyd paused another time, and I took a moment to sit back and think, not wanting to draw upon events of my dream to compare with reality, but unable to stop myself. There'd been voices in my dreams, voices that weren't Cole's, and back during the night we drove down there, there was a howl, one that belonged to neither creature nor man. For a moment I entertained the idea that it belonged to something unknown to Ninjago, an unknown threat that stole your friends and family only to return them an empty shell.

I shook my head, thinking it foolish to believe any of this, and yet, of all the things I'd heard, this alone served a decent explanation.

"How many more?" I asked.

"Hm?"

"How many more people disappeared into the woods?"

A moment of silence, then, "Before Cole? I think it was three. One of them we didn't know was missing until someone happened to find their bones, another was a homeless person named Bansha. They're still gone, as far as I know. Then there was Morro."

He didn't elaborate, but he didn't need to, for everything I needed known about him was already gifted to me by Detective Tactless.

"I think—" Lloyd finished his tale, but spoke still, as if voicing musings he'd had for a long time, "I don't believe most of what I hear...but—but these people, my dad, and the stories from Dareth and Skylor, I think they're connected. Mom says not to believe such foolish things, but I know there's something weird in the woods; you saw the marks on the tree."

I said nothing.

"I'm glad I finally told you," Lloyd was rambling now, "You don't have to believe that your friend was _took,_ or whatever. I just—I just thought you oughta know, ought to know about everyone else."

I stared at my list of names, rolling them over in my mind.

"Jay?" said Lloyd, "You there?" quieter, "Are you mad?"

Something in my mind jerked in an attempt to respond, "No," I spoke, "no, I'm not." But what was I? Even I didn't know. Everything was a mess, what little I knew before now misconstrued into chaos once again. What was I to do with this information, especially now, two months after all was said and done? What now? What next?

"I—" I said, "Thank you."

All I heard was Lloyd's breaths, slowly steadying now that he'd done his task.

"I'm—I gotta go," I said next, rubbing a hand against the nape of my neck, "but thanks again, this—this certainly changes...things." Changes what, I did not know, but it was surely something, "and hey," I added, "I'm sorry about your dad."

"It's been eight years," said Lloyd, "He's at peace, now."

He neglected to say whether he or his mother were at peace, but we each bade our goodbyes, and I sat alone in that toolshed, staring at the list of names.

I don't know how long I did end up sitting there, in the middle of this storm of a revelation. It could have been an hour, and it could have been no more then ten minutes. Still, it was only after the sky began to turn pink did I reflect on the spectral's words spoken to me earlier in the night.

 _I'm still here..._

Crate screeching as I pulled it forward, I grabbed the telephone once again and began to dial.

Zane needed to hear this.

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 **Writing has been so slow lately. I have other stuff I want to post, but my thoughts are coming like slugs: lethargic and random.**

 **Anyhow, thank you for reading and leaving such thoughtful reviews. I hope you all have a wonderful day!**


	17. Chapter 17

**I own nothing but the story.**

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I was lucky there wasn't a policeman clocking cars on my route towards my old school, for I would certainly have gotten a ticket.

"My, son, you're up early," Mom greeted me that morning with a soft attempt at a smile, one that was finally starting to make an appearance again. "Did you sleep well?"

I'd grabbed the keys to Dad's clunky convertible in response, saying, "I'm off to school, Mom. I've got—I've got a thing."

Zane hadn't answered my calls.

"Don't you want breakfast, dear?"

My tummy growled as if on command, but I paid no mind to it. "No, Mom, I really need to go—"

"You need your breakfast, darling."

Ever pushy, Mom slid towards me a plate of peppered eggs, fluffed the way I liked them. She didn't say more, but I was—in part; her stubbornness was hindering my hurry—relieved to see traces of her old, happier self begin to appear in her daily activities. Although that still put a damper on my drive to leave as fast as possible.

I took the plate, one hand flipping the door handle, "I'll eat it on the way there."

The look she gave me would have made even the proudest man flush. "And have you drive distracted? No _sir!_ You sit down right this minute and eat your eggs like a good boy, then afterwards, you can leave."

Through the open window I heard Dad call in, "Listen to your mother, son."

I sat down and ate my eggs, like the good boy I was.

Speaking in all honesty, I would be distracted whether I ate behind the wheel or not. Everything Lloyd told me had riled me up to the point where I could concentrate on nothing else, including my speed as I raced through the streets. What he said, what he said he suspected, was absolutely ludicrous. A creature, a monster in the woods attacking people? Insane, preposterous, inconceivable.

...and yet I could think of nothing else to explain away Cole.

Did I believe it? I asked myself this question again and again as I pulled into the school parking lot, double parking but caring little as I shut the driver door and locked the vehicle. I held the list of names tight in my hands as I made my way into the building, moving past and through students on their way to class. Did I believe it?

I needed to find Zane. I needed to speak with him, to tell him what I knew. _We have a bone,_ I would explain, _Well, several, if I'm being cruel; we have a piece to the puzzle, a clue that could lead us to finding out what happened to Cole._ Then he would answer all my questions, because Zane had an answer for everything.

I spotted him in the library, sitting at a table beneath the large window that overlooked the grounds. He was sitting there, just sitting there, staring at but not reading the open pages of a book. He didn't notice me as I sat opposite of him, didn't look up until I placed my sheet of names in front of him.

Surprise ghosted over his features, "Jay?" he spoke softly, "You're here."

I pointed to the sheet, saddened at the state my friend was in. He looked as though he was withering away; a dead man had more life in his face. "Zane," I greeted, "I got a call from Lloyd last night. There is something in the woods. These are the names of the people who've gone missing in there, and found dead."

He looked down, scanning the names with the same disinterest that he had with the book.

"There are people who've seen the thing that supposedly made off with these people. People who experienced the same thing we did." I leaned forward, "Seven people, Zane. Cole was the eighth person to go missing in eight years. That's a person a year."

Sometimes it killed me how emotionless Zane could be, how, even in the face of the most astounding of news, he could keep himself a blank slate. He did nothing following my little speech, only moved a hand to run a finger over the names, lingering every once in a while on a letter or a remark.

"Lloyd tells me it's something large and dark, able to travel by shadow. Fast, too, by the way it sounds."

Zane's finger stayed steady over the first name as he looked up, "Do you really believe that?"

There was something about his tone that turned the otherwise innocent question condescending. "I'm just—" _repeating information,_ I wanted to say, but as I continued to stare into his icy visage, I grew hot under the collar and switched gears, "Have you a better explanation?"

Zane dropped his gaze immediately following the statement. I waited for him to respond, to offer an answer, an explanation, _something,_ but he refused to humor me with a nod, or shake.

I pursed my lips, but pressed on anyway, determined to pull something useful out of this meeting. I was tired of being alone with my thoughts. "Zane," I said, resting a hand on his forearm, "The man who was with you on... _that_ day...he had an encounter similar to what we did. According to Lloyd, he was driving down the highway—the same highway, mind you—when his lights suddenly cut out, and he had to pull over. He said he saw a thing, some kind of—monster, I suppose."

It was funny, the more I talked, the more ridiculous it sounded. I was almost ashamed to finish my statement, which is funny, given that I'd said many stupid things straight faced in the past.

Yet, intrigue teased a fire in Zane's eyes as he scanned the list of names again. "This is all," he said, "the people who disappeared?"

"Yes."

"And killed?"

"Mostly."

I pointed to Lloyd's father, _Garmadon._ "He didn't die in the woods. He died after they brought him back, but he saw something, too."

A wrinkle appeared between Zane's eyebrows, and for a moment, he seemed to light up again as his thoughts traveled down a new path. "And Dareth?"

"Saw something."

"Who is, 'daughter'?"

"She's named Skylor, from what I could gather. She saw something," I leaned forward, " _We_ saw something. Or heard it, rather. I think we might have seen the same thing."

Zane sat there, thinking. I tried not to fidget as I waited, tried to keep Zane from going back to looking so sad.

"Maybe..." he murmured at last, "Maybe there might be something."

My hopes rose in spite of themselves.

"—but," Zane tapped his finger in emphasis, "It is more likely a man than a monster."

I blinked, "You're saying a man is responsible for all of this?" I didn't want to be rude, but there was no way.

"It is as logical as your guess; is it not?" Zane gave me a frown, his old spark making a return, "A man can get away with a lot under the cover of darkness. He can hide, conspire, kidnap. He can make his victims see or hear things that were never there to begin with, make them believe in the impossible. Perhaps—" Zane stood, determination alone pulling him up like a puppet on strings, "perhaps there is a man, a predator, who likes to hunt humans, the most dangerous game of all."

I also didn't want to interrupt, but sometimes my thoughts just couldn't stop, "What about the howl?" I said, "That noise, our headlights, the thump?" I thought back to that first day of searching, "Lloyd and I found these marks on a tree close to where the sock was found. Claw marks, big ones."

"Easily can be fabricated," Zane said with a wave of his hand, a dismissive gesture I didn't take kindly to, but chose to ignore to keep my friend talking. I wouldn't think it a man who did this, but for now, I could humor Zane. He picked up the list and held it close to his face, before dropping it to his heart, "You say this Garmadon man was brought back alive?"

I nodded, and Zane tapped at his chin. Then he said, "I wonder if Wu was still living down there when that happened."

I raised my eyebrows, and together we left the library, relieved that we were finally going somewhere, relieved that the puzzle was making sense.

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 **Thank you for reading, reviewing, and following this story! Have a pleasant day!**


	18. Chapter 18

**I own nothing but the story.**

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"Do your parents know you're here?" Zane asked as we strode through the empty halls.

I blanched at the query, but donned a nervous smile, "Uh...no?"

While I waited for him to chide me on skipping my own classes and hiding truths from family, he walked on. I scratched my head at the action, but didn't say anything. We entered the office, and Zane bypassed the secretary, saying, passively, "I need to speak with Mr. Wu."

"You have a meeting?"

"Emotional stuff," said Zane, making a face.

I raised an eyebrow at him, and he said as we entered the tiny office, "A while ago, Wu told me he would be there for me, should I ever need him. Now seems a good time to take up the offer."

He rapped two sharp knocks against the oaken door Wu sat behind. At the principal's call, we entered, and Zane's demeanor swung from determined to what could only be a fabricated expression of woe, for the sadness he displayed now was a far cry from what I'd seen from him for the past few weeks. At Wu's inquiry about what we were doing here, Zane began to speak, putting on the air of grief rather than what I knew he truly felt.

"We just need someone to talk to," said he, sitting in the leather chair before the desk and gesturing for me to join him. "It's been a rough time."

At this point, I thought it prudent to try and look distressed as well, so I tried to make myself appear more sad than I was. It proved difficult; the revelations received, and Zane and I's newfound purpose, made me more excited and lively than I'd been in forever.

"Jay!" Wu spoke, "What on earth are you doing here?"

The hairs on the back of my neck rose, and I cleared my throat, mumbling, "It's a student holiday."

"We are depressed," Zane cut in, and I was happy to let him do the talking, "We need consoling, and I distinctly recall you offering your services."

"I can point you to a therapist," said Wu, "I might be learnt in teaching, but as far as mental health goes, I'm a numbskull," he said this with a smile, a sad one.

"We don't need a therapist," Zane's tone took a hard edge before he paused, appeared contemplative, then spoke again under a different guise, "We need someone who understands what we're going through, who knows what it is like to lose someone close to them."

Wu stiffened, his brow tensed.

"From my understanding, you have lost someone before," said Zane, leaning forward, "What was that like?"

I thought it was a little bold to ask that outright, and evidently, Wu thought the same, because he said next, "Who told you about that?"

Zane glanced at me out of the corner of his eyes, and I piped up an attempt at an explanation, "Lloyd—your nephew? He—uh," thinking fast, I said, "We're friends! He gave me his phone number when we were down in town, incase I ever needed someone to talk to, and I found out that he lost his dad out in the woods, too."

As I spoke, Wu's gaze drifted from my face to a metal photoframe propped on his desk whose back faced me.

"You said you lived there; we thought that you would have a feeling about what we're going through!" I had to refrain from smiling in relief as I ended my lie, though I needn't have worried, for Wu had stopped looking at me completely.

"Ah," he sighed, and all was quiet for far longer than anyone felt comfortable with.

I frequently glanced between him and Zane, and found them both wired, each in their own way. At this point, the whole room was buzzing with an atmosphere that was smothering us all, and it took every fiber of my being to keep my mouth shut, for fear of ruining this spur-of-the-moment plan.

Seconds ticked at a snail's pace, until at last, I said, "We don't have to know right now—we can come back if you're uncomfortable," as I released a nervous laugh, Zane gave me a stare similar to what I felt way back during that first day in the police office, but before anything could happen, Wu spoke again.

"No, boys, you're fine," he said, clearing his throat and leaning back in his chair so that it squealed, "I'm just...surprised."

I looked to Zane, and when seeing him remain silent and watch Wu with a careful eye, I looked back and kept quiet, waiting for our teacher to continue.

"I don't—" Wu folded his hands across his belly, eyes darting to and from the metal picture frame. For a moment, I thought he was going to stand and send us out, but he spoke again, "I don't know if my experiences parallel yours...but," his old eyes finally met ours, "I'm willing to answer...what questions you have."

The tension in the room fell—not by much, but enough so that I could relax my shoulders, which had stiffened until they shook.

Zane asked next, "How long did your brother disappear for?"

Until that point, I'd thought that I was the most, for lack of a better term, big mouthed of the group, but Zane was being so forward with this little interrogation it was a wonder Wu didn't catch on. I struggled to keep my mouth and face closed off; I didn't want to give us away.

"Not nearly as long as most people," said Wu, folding his arthritic hands and popping his fingers, one by one, "No one thought he'd disappeared at all, really. He'd a habit of hiding out, sometimes," he sighed, "I'd be lying if I said I was more than merely concerned in the hours after Misako said he was gone."

Sensing Zane tense up, I blurted another question, a half serious one that I hoped would keep Wu off of his toes, "Did you ever feel guilty?"

A little wrinkle appeared between Zane's eyebrows.

Wu nodded, "I did, but not at first. It was after he died," his eyes met ours, "Do you feel guilty?"

I looked at Zane, who opted to drop his gaze to the floor, seemingly overcome with emotion, emotion that made it too difficult to answer the question. I began to see what he was doing here, and did the same.

Wu continued to nod, saying, softly, "I was lucky in that he was found before he died," he looked back at the photo, "He'd holed himself up in a little cave. He was sick and injured, to an extent that none of us knew until he passed."

"What state was he found in?" Zane's finger tapped across his knee, like he was speaking in Morse code, something I hoped he wasn't doing, because I didn't know the first thing about it.

Wu gave the slightest frown, but all the same said, "As I said, he was sick, and bleeding at the hand and forehead. It was really nothing like what happened with Cole."

Zane almost looked disappointed, but with a blink, the expression disappeared from his face. I wasn't so lucky; I couldn't hide my puzzlement as I compared the two accounts of what happened to Lloyd's father. Indeed, it sounded nothing like any of the other cases or even the story Lloyd informed me of.

I drew little circles over the fabric of my jeans, tuning Wu out as he began to talk of various forms of grief and acceptance, and how he was able to move past this tragedy. Perhaps—I began to think, trying, really trying, to think of this like a detective would—perhaps Garmadon's case really was isolated; after all, the only thing we could compare it to was Cole's. I blinked as a revelation came upon me. Our sample size was too small. If there really was something deadly in the woods, we would have to study the accounts by those left alive, those who saw this man or beast and lived to tell the tale. Then we could compare them, and get the answers we'd been denied for so long! I thought of the list of names still sitting, folded in Zane's back pocket.

A little smile crept over my face.

"Has this been helpful to you boys?" Wu looked between us.

Zane was chewing on his lip, looking quite put out, and nearly sinking back into that old look of despair, so I spoke instead, thanking Mr. Wu for his time, and pulling Zane out with perhaps a little too much zeal. Once we returned to the relative solitude of the hallways, I squeezed Zane's arm and said, excited and repulsed and scared all at once, "We might have to go back to that town."

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 **Thank you guys so much for reading! I hope you have a fantastic week! :D**


	19. Chapter 19

**I own nothing but the story.**

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Speaking as quietly as I could in my half excited state, I relayed to Zane my newfound conclusions, how, in order to get any real information, we'd have to find anyone who'd come into contact with this creature or man. I tried to explain it with the scientific eye he always squinted through; if we were to form a reasonable hypothesis on what happened to Cole, we'd have to have at least a base of information to begin with, so we'd know what questions to ask.

Zane listened intently, hardly blinking until I finished. Once I did, I watched him, waiting for some form of approval.

Then, he broke out into the closest thing to a smile since the car ride where everything went wrong. He clasped my shoulders—hard; my eyes watered as his nails dug into my skin—and said that we needed to head down to the town immediately.

That is, just the two of us, right this moment; not a minute to lose.

"What?" I blinked and any excitement or pride I felt in solving this mystery dissipated like fog in the sunshine.

"Let's go!" said Zane, pulling the list of names from his pocket, "Let's find Dareth, let us find Skylor. If Wu has nothing, maybe they will, and who knows! Maybe others will, too," he looked back at me, "Have you really kept up a cordial relationship with Lloyd? May you tell him we are coming? We will be in need of a place to stay, and while I am certain we could go to the motel, we do not know how long we will need to be there—"

Through his spiel I began shaking my head, compelling myself to stop him with a swift wave of the hands, "Woah, woah, slow down! We can't leave now!"

"And why not?" Zane snapped, his sharp eyes darting icicles where his gaze stopped. At my step backwards, he looked down, then up again, the shadows cast beneath the school's fluorescent lights tiring his face, and he said, quieter, "We both know it was not a mountain lion out in the woods that night."

I offered a nod.

"We _both_ want to know what really happened to Cole," he phrased this part like a question, and I, miffed, gave a more defiant nod in response.

"Why hesitate, then?" Zane backed up, throwing his hands out, smiling and looking absolutely manic.

I prayed no person could see him as I did in that moment. "Well, shouldn't we—?" I tried to offer an excuse other than the obvious danger of jumping right into action, but found I couldn't come up with any on the spot. After all, hadn't I been just as excited about this new direction? All the same, I wasn't ready to drop everything and go; surely there was a more sensible, less imposing plan, one that allowed me to prepare myself for the gravity of the task. When I failed to finish my statement, Zane took the opportunity to begin walking towards the school's front doors, his back straight and obstinate.

Scarcely believing his rebellious actions, I followed him, half hoping he would change his mind and stop before he reached the doors, but I ended up disappointed. He barged right through and held the door open, staring and almost daring me to follow him. There were many behaviors Zane had adopted in the time since Cole's death, but this one was by far my least favorite, and I was really beginning to get alarmed. I didn't move.

"Are you coming?" he asked, or rather, stated.

I swallowed as I peered into his eyes, any resolve I had retreating in an instant. Somehow I knew that, regardless of the answer I gave, he was going to, at the very least, begin the long journey back into that wretched town, alone and fearful. To avoid him marching off again, I settled with a vague non-answer, one I hoped would give me time to create a more sensible plan of action.

"Let me first go return my dad's car."

A real smile turned Zane's lips upward, melting his icy exterior ever so slightly, and I swore I saw his eyes glitter, but with a blink they returned to normal. "I'll follow you."

The ride back felt overwhelmingly quiet even with the thundering pitter-patter of Dad's machine hunkering down the road. I thought of Zane and his plan. While I too wanted to return to the town, Zane's behavior turned me quite off from the idea, especially considering that it would be _only_ us. We hadn't made it through with three people in the car, how could two fare any better? But still, I couldn't deny that we needed to go. If Lloyd's word was true, then we could find what we needed, right? I'd be able to find Cole, to truly find him and bring him home? His body may be here, but his story still lay back in that town, perhaps hidden within the minds of victims in the past. I sighed, and wondered if either of my parents would be willing to let me go.

With a jolt I remembered that they thought I was at school, attending class like the good boy I was. What would they do if I returned in the middle of the day, my derailed friend in tow and begging for them to let me go back to the town that killed their second son? I braked and swerved to a stop on the side of the road, pulling the keys out of ignition and hopping out of the car.

I saw Zane drive past and pull over in front of me, and he too exited his car, looking at me in exasperation.

"What are you doing?" he exclaimed, "Time is of the essence!"

"Is it?" I frowned, kicking at a pebble in the dirt, "Cole's dead no matter what."

The lines on Zane's face deepened as he came to a stop near me. "What is wrong?"

My parents' faces floated through my mind, and all I could see was my mother's little half smile, one that showed that she was moving on, that she was learning to be happy again.

"I just realized...I don't think my parents would be comfortable with me going."

Zane's expression didn't change, "Were you planning on asking permission?"

I looked at him, feeling the tickle of fear in the back of my mind again, "You weren't?"

His eyes darted over my face before he shrugged, a strange gesture for him to do, "My father is content believing Ronin's files. I am not, but if I asked permission, he would find every reason for me to stay."

"You were just going to go?" I couldn't keep the hints of admiration out of my voice; I'd thought that Zane would at least leave some sort of message behind. "I could never do that to my parents."

Zane released a short laugh, one that belonged to neither lunacy nor mirth, "Do you really want to ask your parents? To open that wound?" he gripped my shoulder again, saying with a hardness in his eyes that didn't match his tone, "They believe a lie. I saw the marks on Cole's neck; no mountain lion can do that."

I nodded.

"Will they believe you if you say something else did it? That there might be something else in that town?" Zane pulled out the sheet of names again, reading it over, "Something hunting down people," his lip protruded slightly, and I felt the need to put an arm around him, but refrained from doing so.

Not that I could, because Zane hunched away, pacing a circle before speaking again, "I have not been sleeping well. Since Cole...," he swallowed, "I know something unnatural happened to him. Now we've the chance to go somewhere, and I do not wish to stifle it, I want to know what was in the woods on that first night."

How could anyone look so sad? Zane reeked the very definition of it, and looking at him for too long only made a lump arise in my throat, so I glanced away.

Zane turned back, "Even if it is nothing, even if everything is but a terrible coincidence, I would like to be sure. It isn't right—" he cut himself off, his fist clenching. "Do you really want to ask permission?"

I stared at the dirt, glared at it. Did I? Did I?

Zane...seemed right, and that sickened me. I turned around, ground my teeth, braced myself against the car. Mom's small smile appeared in my brain, Dad's nearly cheerful tone in my ears. They were moving on, away from this mess, and I was about to drive them back into it. Could I do that to them? Next I heard that long forgotten yowl echo through the back of my mind, and again, Cole's words, "I'm still here."

I sighed. "Alright," I said, "Alright, I guess we'll just go. But I do need to make some preparations first. I can't just go running off."

I couldn't afford to be that impulsive anymore.

Zane smiled at me, and I felt like vomiting.

* * *

 **Any of you writers out there have one of those chapters that you edit a million times, but just won't work for you without a struggle? This and another one on the way was that chapter for me.**

 **Anywho; thank you for reading! As always, have a wonderful day!**


	20. Chapter 20

**I own nothing but the story.**

* * *

We spent the rest of the school day at a nearby store, roaming the aisles and having a meal at the in-store fast food shop. There, we found Kai, who managed to crack a joke in a small attempt at acting normal.

"You're both skipping!" he exclaimed, in his usual, half serious way that I had to smile at, "I'm ashamed."

He looked positively giddy. I only wished our intentions were as pure as his.

"With all due respect," Zane spoke quietly, almost shy, "You should be in Economics right now."

"Hey," Kai gave us two loaded finger guns, "You don't tell, I don't tell."

He proceeded to have lunch with us, or rather, sit at our table and pick the scraps off our plates, talking amiably. It was a pleasant experience, one that made me forget about it all, about what Zane and I were going to do.

Afterwards, when all classes would have ended, Zane left to collect a sack of clothes, maybe some other essentials, and I returned home, assuring my parents that yes, their son did learn lots today at school, and that he did have a very good day.

I didn't eat much at dinner.

A couple hours after Mom kissed me goodnight, after Dad gave me a warm pat on the shoulder, after I lay awake and stared at the changing numbers on my clock, I got up and began shoving the still wearable laundry from beneath my bed into the book bag meant to serve as my suitcase.

"They'll be less likely to notice you are gone at first," Zane had said, "No one packs dirty clothes. They will think you have gone to school."

Sick. Sick. Sick. Sick.

I looked at the curtains my parents lay behind, snoring away with their arms wrapped around each other. I looked at the couch Cole used to sleep on, where he used to keep me awake with his own thundering snores. I sighed, then turned for the door. Through the little screened window, I could see the top of Zane's car, waiting for me behind my parents' fence.

I didn't want to do this.

But I did want to.

But I don't!

If I weren't trying to be sneaky, I would have growled in frustration.

 _It's only a few interviews,_ thought I, _We'll go down, learn what we need to know, find out what happened to Cole, and return home. Everything will be alright!_

My helpful brain, comforting me with lies. We were just going down to talk to a few folks, but I knew that it was going to be so much more than that. I stared at Zane's car, then turned back, looking at the top of our family fridge.

Sitting there was the manilla folder that contained the facts and lies we knew about Cole's case. I grabbed it, feeling alien, and placed it in the book bag before quietly stepping out the door. It stayed in my thoughts as I left my family's trailer, climbed under the metal gate locking up our junkyard, and joined Zane in his little car, I in the passenger seat, and our stuff, though now smaller, crowding the back seat.

As Zane began to drive, marking the beginning of a route we'd never thought we'd take again, I looked at the backseat, at the spot Cole had sat in, all those weeks ago.

Had they been only weeks?

Without thinking, I grabbed the manilla folder and placed it in Cole's seat, where he sat with his legs cramped and his shoes off, an empty bottle of cheese-in-a-can next to him. I swallowed the hard lump in my throat, and I faced the front, turning my watering eyes towards the stars as Zane drove us towards the place where they disappeared.

* * *

 **Wow, I think I've broken my own personal record on how short I can make a chapter. I might post the next one early.**

 **Thank you for reading!**


	21. Chapter 21

**I own nothing but the story.**

* * *

We stopped once at a closed gas station, around midnight, where Zane gave me some change for the old vending machine by the entrance to the male bathroom. Thus far it had been a quiet ride.

I tried not to think of my parents or anyone else as I slid the coins into the slot. They were going to be worried, or furious—or both. Likely both. Zane said it was better to beg forgiveness than to ask permission, but that wouldn't change the fact that if this trip proved fruitless, or worse, dangerous, than I'd have a big mess to clean up once I got back.

...if I got back.

But again, I tried not to think about it.

As I walked back to the car, I noticed Zane had his forehead pressed against the steering wheel, his eyes closed. Were it not for the tension in his shoulders, I would've thought he'd fallen asleep. I tapped the window before I climbed back into the car.

"You alright?" I whispered.

There was a moment of quiet before he sat up. "Yes," he said, "I am just—" he sighed, "I just cannot believe we're doing this, is all."

I couldn't either, and I was still kind of bitter about it, but we were starting to unravel this mystery, and at this point I wasn't ready to turn back. Then I saw that Zane had turned his eyes to his rear view mirror, where I knew he was staring at the folder. I grimaced.

"It'll be okay," I said, unbelieving that it was me who was saying those words, "We're just going to talk to some people," I looked at the list of names that sat half unfolded on the dashboard, "Maybe I _should_ talk to Lloyd again."

Zane sighed, because this was going to be bigger than a few strains of conversation, and while we both knew it, we didn't say anything. The silence continued as we drove the rest of the way there.

I didn't sleep during the ride; Cole's simultaneous presence and absence was overbearing. When we reached the spot where we'd heard of the crash that took us off the interstate, I turned to look at him, sitting alone in his folder. When we reached the exit that took us to the back roads, I looked at him again, and when the trees grew from sparse to dense, I reached back and pulled Cole into the front seat, holding him close to my chest.

It was dark throughout most of the ride down Highway 27. I wished for a moment that we had left during the daytime, because then—if our lights were to turn out—we wouldn't have to stop.

We were waiting for it, too. The further along the east highway we drove, the higher Zane's speed climbed, the faster my inhales became. Zane said that it could be a man who took away Cole, but at this time, with the doubt that came with darkness still gripping the landscape, I was more inclined to believe Lloyd's supernatural explanation. What beast had been able to douse our lights like candles in the wind?

A single strip of police tape still hung wet and limp on a tree at the spot we'd parked our car. It's hard to describe the feelings I felt as we raced past it, but I noticed that I began to shake. I held Cole tighter, silently assuring him and myself that he wasn't going to leave my arms.

"Where are we going?" I whispered.

Zane's voice was tight, "What?"

I repeated the question, louder.

"What do you mean?"

"Where are we going?" I said again, trying to still my quivering hands, "We have to start somewhere; I don't know where Dareth or Skylor live!"

"Ask your friend."

"Lloyd isn't my—" my eyes widened as I realized where we would probably have to go, "Are we going to the café?"

"Where else will we start?"

I swallowed. I didn't want to go there. I couldn't go back there. "Let's go to the police—"

"NO!"

My eyes widened and I gripped Cole tighter, glaring at Zane. "Why not?" I asked.

"Last time we went to the police," Zane's knuckles were white again, "We found Cole dead in a ditch. I will not make the same mistake again."

I blinked, aghast, "That wasn't a mistake!" I said, but Zane didn't listen. He drove onward, not stopping until he reached the café parking lot. He pulled in silently and exited the vehicle before I could say anything.

What was happening?

What was happening?

What was happening?

My friend was a madman; _I_ was thinking more clearly than he. Oh, what had we come to, what were we thinking? I wished I were at home.

I looked down.

I wished my friend was here.

With a brief glance, I watched Zane walk to the front of the café, taking care to avoid its large, open front windows. I bit my lip and dropped my gaze, eyeing the folder. I wished my friend was here.

I sat there for a moment, thinking, breathing. This folder was all we had. This folder that only my father and the police had looked inside. Slowly, I grabbed the corner of the folder's flap between my thumb and forefinger, lifting it up and peering at things I hadn't before. As soon as I saw the contents, I realized just why Dad had put this on top of the fridge in the first place.

The file was thick with various documents, findings, and forms, but what lay on top were all the photos taken for initial evidence. There were some of Cole's entire body, some of just certain parts, all of it terrible.

His half-lidded stare now eyed me head on, and his injuries and bruises shone like badges. His arm bore a nasty tear down the side, one I hadn't noticed before; the skin on his neck fancied a necklace of the strangest bruises I ever did see, and to top it off were the bruises and dried blood peeking out from under his hair.

And then there was his skin. Cole's skin I always associated with warmth; it was a rich tan that freckled in the summer, and it had no business looking as cold as it did, no business at all. Even now I could see that he really did look blue; it wasn't just my fevered imagination on the hour we found him. Everything I'd witnessed, from his disappearance to his discovery, had been horribly, scarily accurate, the memories of it etched into my brain like an engraving in marble. I dropped the folder back into place.

My friend had been turned into a monster, one I feared was dragging all of us to its level.

Inhaling, I bolted out of the car's side, clutching Cole as tight as I could, and rushed towards Zane.

"Zane!" I called, "Please wait for me!"

Don't leave me behind. I needed to be with him, I needed to find out what made Cole turn into what he did. And I needed to make it pay.

* * *

 **Thank you for reading!**


	22. Chapter 22

**I own nothing but the story.**

* * *

The café was closed, something Zane said was a good thing, because it wasn't ideal to be discovered right away.

"They might alert others of our whereabouts."

Well, then what were we to do?

It was simple, apparently. A walk to the back of the building showed us that there were living quarters behind this cosy café, living quarters that Lloyd and Misako resided in. Zane said that, while he moved our car into a more discreet spot, I was to find out which of the two windows lining the walls belonged to Lloyd. We could trust him, right? After all, he was my _friend_. Once done, I was to give it a knock or two, while also figuring out if it were safe to talk to him, to find out if he would rat us out or not.

Simple stuff.

One window faced the woods, the other, the dumpsters. While I figured Misako wouldn't want her son wafting in the smells of garbage through his window everyday, I found it hard to stomach that she would want him facing the terrain that claimed his father's life, as well. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Zane's white hood sliding into a back alley rut, disappearing between a building's back and a fence overgrown with yellowed vines. Taking a deep breath, I approached the window next to the dumpster and knocked on the uneven glass.

There was a small cry of surprise on the other side, and, in a moment of panic after I couldn't discern whether the voice was male or female, I dropped to my ankles and crouched in the space between the stone wall and the dumpster, staring up at the window with wide eyes. If it were possible for this to look any more suspicious, I knew not how.

Crooked, dirty blinds flew up with a with a muffled shriek _,_ and I saw a pale hand holding the frayed strings taut. It was all I could see, and I couldn't tell who it belonged to. Was it Lloyd, or Misako? Lloyd or Misako?

I looked for Zane, but couldn't find him. What was I going to do? I couldn't figure out who stood behind the window. _What was I going to do?_

I tried to think back to the first day at the café. Hadn't Misako's hands been tanner? Hadn't the nails been painted ruby red? I remembered that her hands had gnarled, green veins twisting across their backs, something this hand lacked.

Refusing to think about it any longer, I stood up so fast I dizzied and looked at the figure behind the glass.

It was Lloyd.

I thanked whatever entity was listening on the spot.

Lloyd stood with his mouth agape, a certain, almost horrified look in his eyes at my presence in his home. I motioned for him to open the window, trying desperately to appear casual. As if that was even possible.

There was a moment where Lloyd stood like a deer caught in the headlights, before he jerked into action and opened his window. It squealed on its way up.

"Jay?" he said, breathless, "What the hell are you doing—"

I held a finger to my lips, glancing at the other window. Lloyd poked out his head, seemed to get the idea, and motioned for me to come inside. While he moved to shut his bedroom door, I braced against the window's sill and hoisted myself up, falling into the bedroom with the grace of a tortoise on its back.

I took a moment to breathe before standing and looking for Zane. Both the teen and the car had disappeared behind the fence of vines; Zane had yet to emerge.

"Jay," I heard.

I turned, looking at Lloyd. He hadn't changed much since I'd last saw him, and his tone—underneath the confusion; was he happy to see me?

"What are you doing here? What's going on, and why the secrecy?"

He was excited, I gathered, excited to see me, excited at this strange situation. At least he had the brains to whisper. I looked out the window again, and finally saw Zane's form, upright with a confident gait that had disappeared before, walking alone from his car's hiding spot. At my wave to him, Lloyd approached my side and spotted Zane begin his journey towards us.

With a sigh of relief, I left the window and looked around, taking in the mess that was Lloyd's room. Laundry aired out in piles on the floor, dirtied dishes and mugs crowded the tops of the dresser and the room's lone desk. Everything else—the walls, the ceiling, even the bedspread—was covered in all sorts of comic book memorabilia.

"Fritz Donnegan?" I said.

"What about him?"

I looked out. Zane was nearly here.

"Good taste."

* * *

 **Thank you for reading!**


	23. Chapter 23

"So, what are you doing here?" Lloyd asked again, growing impatient.

I understood I owed him an explanation, but my brain was wired to the point where comprehensive thought was impossible.

"Is this about what I told you?"

I looked at him, really looked into his face. This boy I'd hated for so long was now our key to finding an illusion of peace in our lives. I turned and pulled out the folder containing Cole's case. Holding it out for him to see, I said, "Do you want to know what killed your father?"

His face changed; his brow furrowed, and he bit his lip. Then he nodded, slowly at first, then more vigorously. I released a huff and a half smile, all I could do at this point.

"Me too," said I, "I want to know who killed all of those people. That's why Zane and I are here. We need to investigate these cases— _all of_ these cases," I held the folder close to my heart, "That's the only way we can know if they're really connected. Will you help us?"

"I—" Lloyd spoke, "Of course, but how—"

There was a squeal as the window was pulled back up. We looked over as Zane lifted himself into the room, hardly letting out a breath, let alone a grunt. I tried not to feel jealous. Zane gave the room a sweeping glance, before shutting the window and turning to Lloyd.

"Has Jay told you of our mission?"

Lloyd nodded with a stifled smirk, "I wouldn't call it a mission, but—"

"And you understand the conditions that you must keep?"

"Huh?"

Zane looked at me, concerned that I hadn't already passed information to my supposed friend. To keep from testing him, I offered Lloyd further explaining.

"You see, uh, no one but you knows we're here," I said, scratching my head and releasing a nervous laugh, "So you can't tell anyone, okay?"

Lloyd looked between us, surprised. Then, that face melted as a fire appeared in his eyes. With a voice solid in assurance, he said, "You can trust me. What do you need?"

"Someplace to stay," Zane began, "All but we believe these cases in the woods are isolated. To investigate, we had to sneak out of our homes to get here."

I studied the shelf full of vintage comic books to keep the wave of guilt from crushing me.

"The more people know that we are here, the more likely we will be forced home by either our families or the police. If you want us to find out what killed your father and friends, we need you to find a discreet place to stay, and perhaps work."

Lloyd's reply came without hesitation, "My basement. Only Mom and I ever go down there, and it's got plenty of workroom and places to hide if you need to."

I looked at the kid, beginning to think that maybe he wasn't so bad after all. "Does your mom go down there often?"

Lloyd shook his head. "Neither of us do. It's where Dad used to work. It's been cleaned up, though."

That fact was a little unsettling, but we chose to ignore it. With an agreement to take up the offer of residence, Lloyd snuck us down into the basement, thankfully missing his mom by minutes.

The basement was quite spacious, and full of several shelves of junk, but it was perfect for our needs. It had a small couch where we could rest, and a large table where we could work. Lloyd pointed out a window running along one of the walls that led out to the back-parking lot, should we need an exit, and a discreet cranny in case we needed to hide.

"I have to go," said Lloyd, "but I'll be back as soon as I can. I'll help you with whatever you need."

He said this with a smile, one I found almost easy to return as he left. Yes, I guess I was starting to like this kid. I looked at Zane, and, forgetting my fear for a moment, smiled at him, too.

We were set.

* * *

 **Thank you for reading!**


	24. Chapter 24

**I own nothing but the story.**

* * *

"Lloyd said that the creature was something that moves in shadows; something that's there one second, then gone the next. By all accounts, that matches what happened to us on that first night. The yowl came and went, as did Cole. He was there one second and gone the next."

I scratched at my scalp with the blunt end of my pencil, feeling almost genius, "I'm thinking—whatever this thing is—it exists only in shadow, and that's how it gets around. It would explain why there weren't any tracks, at first." It would also explain why Cole disappeared so suddenly; why his scent would disappear and reappear somewhere else.

"We don't even know what 'it' is, Jay," Zane hardly spared me a glance as he flipped through page after page of Cole's folder, "Until we can speak to some of these other people, any theories as to what we collectively encountered should remain speculative. Besides, it's a little silly to assume it's a monster when a cruel, cruel person is just as capable."

I grimaced and looked down. On a yellow notepad (one I'd noticed was like Ronin's), I'd written down all the current possibilities as to what we found in the woods. It was a shame to think we wouldn't yet be needing it. With a sigh, I tore off the sheet.

Zane was poring through Cole's documents, trying to come up with a list of details that would provide us something to compare other victims' cases to. So far, I didn't think he had much.

Already he'd set aside the body diagram indicating all of Cole's injuries. Next, he laid the sheet of the strange patterns that had been taken from Cole's neck. Now he was looking for other details, anything that we would need. I noticed he left the photos of the body underneath the folder, out of sight, if not out of mind.

Personally, I didn't see the point of taking evidence relating to the body post mortem. As far as we knew, the other bodies had apparently been found well after evidence was salvageable. So as visible marks went, we were alone.

While I watched Zane, I began to write down a list of details that Skylor, Dareth, or even Lloyd would know; things that, if the cases were connected—which I was nearly positive they were—they would recognize. I first wrote down the yowl, because maybe the others had heard it, too. Perhaps it was even the detail that convinced Dareth that Cole had been, 'took'.

Next were the absence of tracks or any other disturbance. If Cole had been dragged off without a trace, surely the others had been too?

I figured Zane would talk about the physical injuries, so I wrote next of the other strange happenings: the claw marks on the tree; the circumstances following the incident; the highway itself.

How many of these encounters had occurred on the East Highway?

Together, Zane and I developed a plan: talk to Lloyd first, then find Skylor and Dareth. By dissecting their accounts, we'd find out what this thing in the woods really was, an exciting but nerve-wracking fact.

I hoped, through my fear, that we would find out. Cole deserved that.

An hour before noon, Zane stopped flipping through the folder, instead sitting still with his hands flat on the table. I looked into his empty gaze.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

Zane looked over the stacks of documents before him. "I believe," said he, "we need the files for the rest of the victims."

I blinked. There'd be no way for us to get those. I voiced that thought aloud, for Zane to nod along.

"I know, that's the problem. I am not sure where they keep such files." He looked at me, "We will have to ask Lloyd."

I nodded. There was a lot we needed to ask Lloyd.

We were waiting for him at the table when he marched down late that afternoon.

"Are you all okay?" he asked, "No trouble?"

"Not yet," Zane said without hesitation. "We need to ask you some more questions. Sit down."

I couldn't blame him for looking nervous. We were all nervous here.

"Is this an interrogation?" Lloyd said, looking between us.

"Yes," said Zane before jumping right into it, "How accurate can you say your memory of your father's death is?"

"Zane!" I said. We really needed to go over these questions before he just starts blurting them out. At this rate, we were going to turn into Ronin.

Lloyd's face rippled, and I, though not sure of where these feelings of empathy came from, placed a hand on Zane's arm, "We can't ask those kinds of questions."

"We have to," Zane looked at me, "if we want to solve this case, we will have to. We must know, whether you like it or not, Jay. We must know every detail. _Every. Detail."_

I decided then and there that I didn't like Zane. I loved Zane; he was my friend, but since Cole was found, he'd ceased to be the version of himself that was my friend. Now he was someone else, someone who was angry, cold, irrational, and I didn't like him one bit. He needed help, a therapist, something. He was scaring me.

"Don't worry," Lloyd spoke, looking down in his lap, "I remember everything."

"Good," Zane's face was going back and forth, switching between sorrow and anger, emotions so different from each other yet sat on the same end of the spectrum, "These questions are going to be specific. You will be uncomfortable," he took a deep, quavering breath, "But if you really want to stop these deaths in the woods, you need to answer them as best you can."

Lloyd nodded, I bit the inside of my lip, and we began.

* * *

 **Longer chapters are on the way, I promise.**

 **Thank you so much for reading!**


	25. Chapter 25

**I own nothing but the story.**

* * *

The questions ranged from general to hyper specific.

What was the weather like when your father died? Had your father any known enemies? What was the chemical makeup of the "black stuff" your father was vomiting?

"How on earth could I know that?" Lloyd was becoming increasingly incredulous, and rightfully so.

"Just answer each question to the best of your abilities."

Zane was cold, demeanor unchanging as the picture we painted over the past day became more detailed.

Garmadon left in the early morning, well before sunrise. Unlike Cole, and from what we'd heard of the other cases, he was relatively unharmed, his ailments consisting of no more than a jagged cut across the hand and minor scratches over the rest of his body. His downfall came from the illness he seemed to contract in the time until he was found, a strange illness that caused him to vomit an unidentifiable black substance.

"Is it possible that this vomit was blood?" asked Zane, his hands folded.

My brow crumpled to the point of fatigue as I wrote down what seemed important notes. So far, I'd several pages full, an amount I was willing to take pride in.

"I think we would have known if it was blood," Lloyd appeared nearly sick himself, "It looked like oil, but with less shine."

I looked to Zane, but he was just as confused as I. Eventually, we moved on.

Garmadon hardly spoke in the time since he was carried from the woods; what little he did say was muttered, slurred to the point of being unintelligible. In fact, the only words that Lloyd, or anyone, could recall were the man's last:

"It was so pretty."

"I am assuming..." all eyes were on Zane as he spoke his next words, "that this 'it' was the person who harmed him?"

"It wasn't a person."

"What makes you so sure?"

"Well," Lloyd tilted his head to the side, his eyes finding a pipe stretching across the ceiling, "Dad would never refer to a person as an 'it,' not even the people he didn't like."

Zane's only movement was in his fingers, where he turned a pencil idly through them. "What would you suggest it was instead?"

"I—I don't know," Lloyd had shrunken into himself as this meeting went on, so much so that he looked on the brink of blinking out of existence, "It would be the same thing as what got the rest of them, right?"

Zane looked at me, questions in his eyes. I looked down at the notes I'd taken, struggling to decipher my own handwriting.

"This doesn't sound like any of the other cases you talked about, Lloyd."

His shoulders tensed, and his chin set.

"But—!" I said, "We don't have much to compare it to, yet."

"Cole didn't fall ill," said Zane.

"My dad was the first one," said Lloyd, shooting Zane a look, "The first one is always different, right? Isn't that how it works?" he looked between us.

Zane shrugged, falling into a sullen silence. I chose to take the lead, instead.

"Do you know where we can find Skylor and Dareth?"

Lloyd stared at Zane a second longer, then replied, "Skylor's got a restaurant and Dareth's got a half bar, half dojo. I can take you there tomorrow after school."

"Why can't we go beforehand?" demanded Zane.

Lloyd gave a slight frown, "I want to help."

"We need to do this as soon as possible," said Zane, "People will come looking for us."

"Here?"

I began to nod, "Someone will connect the dots," I looked at Lloyd, "We'll have to try in the morning."

"I can hide you better," Lloyd offered, "You'll look more normal standing next to me. Besides, I already know Skylor and Dareth, so they'll be much more likely to answer your questions if I'm the one talking to them."

Zane pursed his lips.

"Plus," said Lloyd, "I know Ronin. He's been on most of these cases. If there's anyone who knows all the dirty details about them, it's him."

He paused there, and at our silence, he let some of his frustration show through:

"Look, you're not the only ones who've lost somebody to the woods. Whatever is in there has been around for my whole life; I _knew_ many of the people lost to it, and I deserve to know what took them just as much as you guys do," his chair screeched as he stood up, placing his hands on his hips as he did so, "I'm going to be as much a part of this as you guys, so if you want to see Skylor or Dareth tomorrow, you'll wait for me to get back from school, alright?"

I was nodding even before Zane heaved, "I can live with that."

That earned us a whisper of a sigh, a relieved one as the tension in Lloyd's entire body deflated. Before anyone else could say anything, though, Misako's muffled voice rang throughout the house:

"Lloyd! Where are you?"

He tensed again. "I gotta go," said Lloyd. He grabbed his jacket and began hunkering up the wooden steps. He looked back as he reached the door. "Will you guys be alright tonight? I can bring you some food later."

"We will be fine," said Zane.

"You mind bringing some of those waffles you had?" I added.

Lloyd smiled for real this time, his eyes alight, "Not at all. Whatever you guys need, I'm willing to help."

He left after that, leaving us alone with each other. Again, I was surprised to find that my contempt for Lloyd and his family had all but diminished in the time since he gave me that call. I suppose it helped that he knew what we were feeling.

I looked at Cole's folder, still sitting with its front flap open. _We're on our way,_ I thought, _Just a few more steps, and we'll know what happened to you._ I was certain of it now. We couldn't come all this way for nothing. There was something here, something big.

"Not a bad ally, huh?" I raised an eyebrow at Zane.

"I suppose," was all he said, refusing to take his eyes from the table.

I certainly hoped that we'd find something here. Maybe, hopefully, I could find Zane, too.

* * *

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 **Thank you for reading! :) Have a wonderful day!**


	26. Chapter 26

**I own nothing but the story.**

* * *

"How long do you think it'll be until our parents find us?" I asked Zane as we were preparing for bed that night.

Neither of us figured we could stay long unnoticed.

"With luck," said Zane, "At least a few days. That'll be enough time to talk to Skylor and Dareth. Maybe Ronin, if Lloyd is subtle enough."

I nodded, flopping back onto the dusty pullout the couch had procured. If that was enough time to figure everything else out, we knew not. I pulled close the itchy pink blanket Lloyd had given me, tucking the satin siding beneath my chin. I looked up to Zane, who lay with his back facing me, arms folded around himself.

"You think Misako will find us?" I asked.

"Not if we are careful."

I stared at his back a moment more, watching until the sunlight outside disappeared. "How are you doing?"

Zane's voice had grown small and heavy, "Why do you ask?"

"I haven't asked since—" since...

Zane was quiet. He had always been the quiet one in our group, but now he was too quiet; I couldn't hear past the wall his shoulders made. He wasn't well, that I knew.

"I am—" said Zane, his volume hardly above a whisper, "I just—I need to find out who killed Cole."

That was hardly the answer I wanted to receive.

"I need to know," continued Zane, "I need to do that. Maybe then, I can find some peace."

I nodded even though he couldn't see me, and silence enveloped us. I watched the moonlight fall from ceiling to floor at the opposite end of that skinny window. I wished I could sleep. It was incredible how, as tired as I felt, my mind could remain busy enough to keep me awake. There were times I wished that I could stop thinking so much; despite how brainless my decisions could be, I tended to overthink my problems.

A bitter taste filled my mouth as I wondered if the decision to come to this place had been brainless. It seemed so; regardless of what we accomplished, we'd be walking on eggshells the entire time. Whether we were up against the townsfolk, our parents, or the thing in the woods, we had to be careful.

The thought of knowing if there was something in the woods taking people like Lloyd's father frightened me to my bones. Even with that, though, finding that the woods really were empty was an equally disturbing thought. If the woods were merely woods and nothing more, then Cole went missing in our presence, and we would never know how. And if there _was_ something in the woods, then...

I blinked. Then what? What would we do? What if diving back into all of this had been a bad decision after all?

"Jay?" I heard.

I looked at Zane and sat up, "Yeah?"

"I left my bag of clothes in the car," said he, unmoving still, "Could I bother you into fetching it?"

"Course," I kicked off the pink blanket and stood, "You got the key?"

"It is unlocked," he turned back once, staring at me with a half-closed eye, "Be careful on your way out, alright?"

"It's not like I won't be!" I said with my best attempt at a smirk. Smiles didn't come naturally anymore.

Both lights to Misako and Lloyd's bedrooms were off when I crawled onto the parking lot, and off they stayed as I ran into the rut Zane had stashed the car. He did an excellent job of hiding it; twice I overlooked it before I found the car tucked in a space between the back of a laundromat and several overgrown bushes.

I'd thought that any noise I made would disturb residents around, but I needn't have worried; the only thing disturbed by my actions was a screech owl that sat alone on a branch twisting away from the forest's edge.

Halfway through the backlot, I stopped my path towards the window and stared at the trees, challenging me with their tall majesty. Many would think that the world was quiet at night, but the opposite was true. Nighttime was as loud as day; it was just alive with different sorts of sounds. These sounds echoed through the air, filling it with those of various bugs, birds, and movement. It was the noise of movement that frightened me the most, because it reminded me of the movement Cole heard when I saw him alive for the last time.

I shivered against the chill as I gazed into the darkness between each trunk. What moonlight that made it through the canopy lightened the shadows into indigo and dotted white onto the floor, playing tricks with my mind. Was there really something lurking underneath that tree? Was I about to become another Cole? Another Garmadon? Another Morro?

A howl sounded from far away, but whether it was from the monster I knew took my friend or just another coyote, I wouldn't know. I wished I could turn my thoughts off for a while. Maybe then I could exist in peace.

The screech owl I disturbed, now satisfied that I wasn't going to interrupt its song, began to fill my ears with its cry, and I finished my path back to the basement window, crawling in and praying that nobody saw me exhibiting what was, without a doubt, suspicious behavior behind the café. Dropping both Zane and I's bag next to the couch, I looked to find my friend had fallen asleep.

Good.

At least he wouldn't have to listen to his thoughts anymore. They were surely as bad as mine, if his behavior gave me any clue. I crawled back into my bedding, asking myself the same question I had since the beginning of the night.

Was coming here a good decision? Or bad?

Good, I decided. It had to be good; I had to believe that it was a good decision, or else any efforts here would be wasted. How would Cole, or anyone in the woods, get justice otherwise?

I returned to my dream from two nights ago, hearing Cole's words in my ear:

"I'm still here."

This time I heard the other voices too, and I began to wonder if those were the voices of the other people, the people I've never met and never will meet. I wondered if they really were still here, if that dream was more than a dream. Maybe it had been a message.

I let out a laugh, pressing a hand to my lips; the idea was ridiculous.

If I believed that, then I would be forced to believe that Cole and all those people lost were still in the woods, waiting for help that would never arrive.

I turned over, trying to shake that frightening thought from me. _Silly. Silly. Silly._

They were lost, those people. There or not, they were lost. Tomorrow we would speak to Skylor, and then we could connect some dots on this massive, massive puzzle page, and go home at peace.

At least, in a little more peace than we'd had in a while.

I went to sleep telling myself over and over that coming here was the right idea.

* * *

 **I'm still working on this thing, even after all of this time. I'm hoping to get all of it out by the end of the year, so I won't have to worry about it anymore, but that's probably not going to happen.**

 **Anyway, thank you so much for reading, reviewing, and following this story. Just the other day, I went through and reread all the reviews left here, and they continue to make me as giddy today as they did when I first read them. Seriously, you guys are the greatest.**

 **I hope you all have a fantastic day!**


	27. Chapter 27

**I own nothing but the story.**

* * *

Lloyd seemed all too excited to dress us up in some of his clothes.

"You're less identifiable if you're covered head to toe, right?" he reasoned, sliding a striped green beanie over my brow. "Nice scar, by the way. Better hide it."

"I can do this myself," I pulled his hands away by the wrists, "Besides, I'm pretty sure I'm older than you—"

"Let him, Jay. He is helping," said Zane, tucking a knitted scarf tight beneath his chin, "He's right. This is a better way to look inconspicuous."

Apparently, that meant that Zane was the one who got to wear both my mittens and my favorite blue hat, so that no one could recognize it on my head. It was an odd plan, I thought, almost unnecessary. Though it wasn't like I knew anything about what we were doing; the only part of the plan I had so far was the outcome. If this helped us get there, then I suppose I shouldn't complain. As my eyes found my reflection in Lloyd's small dresser mirror, I certainly hoped that no one would recognize me in this ugly green number.

Skylor's restaurant was a far walk from the café, and a chilly one at that. Though the sun was glaring down at our backs, the winter winds did more than just nip at our noses. By the time the neon sign and unconventional build of _Chen's Noodlehouse_ came into view, I felt certain my nose and lips had fallen off my face, leaving exposed the bone beneath.

I rubbed at the cartilage as we entered the restaurant, the humid fumes inside a welcome change to the frigid air.

"Skylor likes to come around and talk to all of her customers," said Lloyd, "'Guests,' she calls them...us. Anyways, she's friendly, so I'm sure we can talk to her about all this."

A freckled waitress put us at a booth in the back, underneath a large portrait of a man eating noodles.

"That's Chen," said Lloyd as we sat down.

A bolt of lightning went up my spine at that realization. I studied the portrait. It was chaotic in nature: the overdressed man staring out had a gleam in his eyes that would make proud hearts quiver. While the presentment gave me a fair grasp as to what this man may have been like in life, I wondered how much of that look stayed on his face on his last day on earth. I shivered at the morbid thought and sat down.

How prophetic, that we'd be sitting here today.

We kept our orders small and our eyes out. Cole's folder and notes we placed next to Zane, a vague illusion of his company. Skylor appeared busy; though we didn't see her anywhere, the restaurant crowd was thick and wild, the staff running around like chickens without heads.

"You can't miss her," said Lloyd as we gave the restaurant another sweeping scour, "She's got bright red hair and she struts around like she owns the place."

"She does, doesn't she?"

"She does," said Lloyd, "but you can _tell_ she owns the place. She's got that commanding feel."

We felt it not long after he said this, when the kitchen door opened, and the atmosphere of the place changed entirely. A young woman that embodied the very definition of 'radiant' stepped into the main floor, greeting her guests with a smile before going over to speak with her staff.

"She'll come around," said Lloyd, placing a hand on the tablespace near Zane's, which had turned white at the knuckles as its owner stood. "We can talk to her then."

"What should we say?" said Zane.

"Anything to make her stay."

I looked at the portrait. "You said her father hit her a lot?"

Lloyd followed my gaze. "We won't talk about that."

We couldn't dare, but it would be hard to ignore if we planned any of our arguments around bringing justice to Chen's death.

Skylor made several rounds about the place, stopping to talk and make sure all was going well. She appeared incredibly well-liked, all she spoke to ended their chat with a smile and warmth in their gaze. Even from a distance, it was hard not to be charmed by the presence she graced.

"Lloyd!" she greeted as she finally reached our table, "It's been too long."

"Hello, ma'am—"

"Skylor."

"Miss Skylor," Lloyd cleared his throat, plastering a grin onto his face, "We're glad to see you."

"The pleasure is mine," said Skylor, her eyes traveling to our faces, "What brings you here today?"

"Um..." the awkwardness was felt by all as Lloyd struggled to come up with something to say that wouldn't shock her, "Uh...I'd like you to meet my—my friends," he held out his hand, "This is Zane, and that's Jay."

Skylor smiled as she greeted Zane's wave and my own awkward grin. When she turned back to Lloyd, she had a brow quirked and a mischievous beam on her face, "Okay Lloyd," she said, her tone playful, "What evil deeds are you up to today? No one makes friends overnight."

I felt awful. Terrible. Sick to my stomach, light to my head, just plain horrible.

When Lloyd hesitated to continue, Zane leaned forward, taking over.

"We are not up to malevolence, Miss Skylor, but we do need your assistance," he grabbed Cole's folder and pushed it to her, slowly, "We know not if you heard, but about two months ago, a friend of ours went missing in your woodlands, and ended up—perishing."

Skylor froze, recognition flashing through her eyes. As Zane spoke, her smile twisted, her face clouded.

"We suspect that his death was not accidental, but we haven't any proof," Zane's gaze on her was steady as he continued to speak, "If you would be so kind as to let us ask a few questions—"

The young woman suddenly turned sideways, eyes darting to her father's portrait. For a moment, the three of us held our breath, certain that she was going to march off, refusing to speak with us.

But a moment passed, and she didn't move, so Zane continued, a noticeable quiver in his voice before he leveled out, "Please," he began, "We want to find out what happened to our friend, and we've reason to believe that his case and..." he stared at her face, "Yours...are connected. If you will please let us ask you some questions; we might just find out what happened to our friend."

"What could I possibly know that can help you?" Skylor's voice was cold, a far cry from the attitude she carried when she'd first approached. "My father got lost. It happens."

I swallowed.

"That is what they said of Cole."

I could see the young woman bite her lip, a million emotions racing across her face. I looked to Lloyd, who stared hard at the table, agitated.

"Well, then," said Skylor, her stare turning icy as she looked back at Lloyd, "Why would you come to me in the first place? Unless _someone_ was spreading those unfounded rumors..."

Heat rose to Lloyd's face, but Zane cut in again, saying with surprising ease, "I'm afraid that you are wrong there, Miss Skylor. Jay and I are here because our own research turned up a variety of cases that are similar to Cole's. Suspiciously similar. Your father's happened to be one of them."

I almost gave us away by cracking a smile at Zane's action.

"He got lost," Skylor continued, "There's nothing strange about it," she straightened as she spoke her next words, "If you boys are here to badger me about whatever _rumors_ you've heard, then I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

"No!"

All three of us managed to speak up at the same time, but Zane was the one that continued:

"Ma'am, I've not had a single night that I've slept through since the night my friend was lost; if nothing else, humor us!"

He'd stood when saying this, and a few heads began to turn.

"Please," he said, desperate, "We need to know what happened to him."

She, like all of us, was surprised by his outburst, and she stood frozen, her cheeks and tips of her ears pink. In the silence that followed, an idea struck me. Reaching into my pocket, I pulled free my wallet and opened it up, sliding it next to the folder for Skylor to see.

"This is Cole," I said, voice cracking as I did so, "He died out there."

A beat passed, and she leaned forward, fingers pressing against the table as she examined the wallet.

In there I kept a polaroid I took of myself and Cole from nearly a year ago. Though I'd initially turned it around after his death, I found myself looking at it more and more recently, and I thought Skylor should see it, too.

I'd taken the picture on a midwinter's day back home. Dad had just returned with a truck full of new purchases for scrap, a camera among them. After much persuasion, he let me take it for my own use, and I'd run off to find Cole, excited.

He was lying on the roof of a junked forklift, sunning himself like a lizard. When I'd joined him, I'd insisted that I knew how to work the marvelous camera, and that I was going to take such cool photos with it.

The first one I'd taken was the one Skylor was currently looking at. I was making a stupid face, one surprised by the sudden flash, and Cole was smiling at me.

Just smiling.

The part of my heart that he once resided in throbbed.

"I think you know something," I said, quieter, "and I think you need to tell us."

Skylor was silent for a long time, staring at the Polaroid with a strange look on her face. Lloyd leaned in, as well, to get a look at a person he'd never seen alive. Zane stared between us, doleful.

When Skylor spoke again, her voice was low, a whisper, "You wouldn't believe me."

Our faces lit up at the deflection. We were finally going somewhere.

Excited nervousness began flowing through my veins, and I put on a grim smile, "You'd be surprised."

* * *

She waited until she closed the restaurant before she told us anything. We sat in the kitchen, sitting along the center island with four plates of noodles in front of us. I had out my notepad, pen ready.

I looked at Zane, hoping he would notice my diligence, but he just sat with his eyes out and on Skylor, who paced from the kitchenware to the door that lead out to the main floor. I hoped that she would talk soon.

"How are your noodles?" she suddenly spoke after several long minutes of silence, refusing to pause in her pacing.

We blinked in surprise, and shared a look before murmuring various noises of approval.

"They're not too salty?"

"They're as good as always, Skylor," Lloyd offered a smile.

"It was my father's recipe."

The smile fell, and heat rose to the back of my neck.

"S-Sorry?"

Skylor pulled a chair out from behind the door, stepping on it as she pointed out a section of wall above the cabinets with writing on it. Looking back at us, she said, "He wrote it up here the day he thought of it. I must have taste-tested a hundred different kinds. It was this one that I thought was best, the one you're eating now," she stepped down, still giving us that scrutinizing stare, "My father was a terrible person," said she, "but he could cook."

She finally sat down, folding her hands as she looked between us. No one said a thing for a while, because no one knew what.

"What was Cole like?" she finally asked.

I blinked, looking at Zane, only to find him looking at me.

"Um..." I tried, ignoring the pain in my chest, "Cole is...was..." dead, gone, lost, alone, "Cole was—he liked to cook, too."

Skylor's lips twitched, "Was he any good?"

I could see Zane's eyes sparkling from the corner of my eye, "No," I said, "He was awful. The worst cook in the land. He loved it, though."

Skylor nodded, eyes casting downwards.

After a moment of silence, Zane leaned forward, saying, "Ma'am—"

"I'll spill it, alright?" Skylor snapped, "You can't walk in and expect me to tell you everything."

Zane sat back, red from either anger or embarrassment.

"Before I say anything," continued Skylor, looking at me, "I want to know what happened to him."

I inhaled. I was sick of telling this story, but I imagined that Skylor was, too.

"Okay," I looked at the table, steeling myself, "We—we were on our way to Ninjago City, and a traffic accident took us down those roads." I clenched my fists as I said this. Gladly would I have sat through the traffic, given the chance to do it all again. Anything to avoid the turmoil we were trapped in. "Sometime in the morning...maybe midnight, our lights went out."

Skylor raised a brow, "Headlights?"

"All of the lights," the events were playing like a movie through my mind; a horror movie, "it was just...darkness. We couldn't drive like that, so we pulled to the side of the road."

Though Skylor didn't react in any visible way, Lloyd kept staring at the table, his eyes wide and fingers twitching in a nervous dance.

"We didn't know what to do," I continued, "So we tried turning off the car," looking back, I would have goaded Zane into driving away, even in the dark. Risking a crash would've been worth it if it meant getting away from the thing. "Cole and I got out to look, and he—" I swallowed as my voice cracked, "—he said he heard something moving around. Then...then..."

Skylor squeezed at her folded hands, and Zane stared a hole into the table.

"Then we heard an awful...noise, a yowl, and the lights came back on," I scratched at my ear, having dropped my gaze to the table as well, "and that was it." I swallowed again in a weak attempt to get rid of the lump in my throat.

"Not so," Zane cut in, "We left."

I frowned but nodded. "Yeah."

Skylor nodded, her expression having softened significantly. "You..." she said, "You said there was a yowl?"

Zane and I nodded.

Skylor pursed her lips, then straightened them to a line, a strange look on her face. "But you didn't see anything?"

I shook my head, "Did you?"

Skylor dropped her gaze, glaring at the table before bringing her head up. She brought it down once in a short nod. My heart began to race.

"We were on our way to Jumanakai," began she, "way up past the Alps. We'd barely gotten out of here before—" she took a shaking breath, and I was shocked to see that she was struggling to hold back tears, "Our car broke down too. Just the same way as yours. The lights went out. So, we pulled over."

Her fingers began tapping over her other hand, and we watched on, amazed and horrified and excited all at once.

"My stupid father." Skylor continued, "After the car broke down, he went out to check for a flat. The dumbass didn't even know what was wrong." She shook her head back and forth, refusing to take her eyes from the tabletop. "I stayed in the car."

She paused there, and I leaned forward. I didn't dare interrupt her, but I wished that she would spill everything as fast as possible. For the first time since the night everything started, I felt like I was getting some answers.

But Skylor stopped her story anyway, choosing instead to ask, "You guys sure that you saw nothing?"

I bit back a groan. "Yes."

Zane nodded at my statement.

"Have you two spoken with Dareth?"

"We wanted to see you, first." Lloyd piped up this time, "Dareth is mostly talk."

Skylor snorted, taking another forkful of noodles, "I'm afraid you're wrong, there."

I couldn't take this anymore. "Wrong about what? What did you see?"

Skylor stared at her plate of noodles, taking her time to chew, chew, chew, and swallow. With another, heaving breath, she finally said, "I saw eyes."

My blood ran cold, freezing. Beside me, Zane balled up his fist.

"I just saw..." said Skylor, "I saw the reflection on the windshield, so I turned. There were eyes, I swear it. They glowed, and they were huge. I saw them up past the branches."

Against my will, I began to shake.

"I don't know how long I stared at them. I couldn't register what they were," Skylor shook her head, a joyless smile on her lips, "Part of me wishes that I had said something...but..." she took a breath again, "Anyways, I watched them for a while, and they disappeared. I guess they blinked, or something. Then I heard my father call out. He shouted...he might have called my name; it was sudden."

My head was reeling again, making me sick for the billionth time in the past few days.

"So," spoke Zane, "What did you do?"

Skylor swallowed. "I stayed in the car." Her voice broke over the last word.

Silence.

I looked around, then said, "And?"

Skylor snapped her gaze to me, but the hardness that had been there was gone, replaced by an emotion far too relatable. "And," she said, "the car turned back on, so I got out. I didn't see him, so I drove back into town and called for help."

"So, you did see something," I said, unable to comprehend the wave of emotions slamming me from all sides. Not only was her story identical to ours, but she had described a face, more or less, of the killer. My first thought was to cry, but then I had the odd inclination to laugh.

"Did you not go out to look for your father?" asked Zane, fingers tapping against the table, "When you first got out of the car? Did you see anything else there?"

Skylor shook her head. "Look, boys," she released a chuckle, "as stoic as I might sound today, I was pretty spooked. There was no way I was going in those woods."

That caused me to frown, "So you just left?"

Skylor shrugged. "I'm surprised you two didn't. If I'd seen the eyes _and_ heard a noise, I would've bolted back to town on my own two feet."

I hummed my response, and Zane spoke, "Our search didn't make a difference. We left, anyway."

Skylor nodded, sighing, "In the searches afterwards, we didn't find anything, no footprints, no nothing."

I jerked up, "Did they find a scent?"

"No."

It was like he dropped off the face of the earth... I turned a wide-eyed stare at my companions, but only Lloyd met my gaze. Zane merely watched Skylor. I wondered if he was beginning to believe that this wasn't a man after all.

This seemed to conclude Skylor's tale, for there wasn't much she could tell after that, or there wasn't much she was willing to tell. All the same, we got everything we needed.

"Thank you," I said as we walked out to the frigid night air. Tears were in my eyes, ones I was surprised to find, "You have no idea what you've done for us."

Skylor gave me a sad smile, patting me on the back as I stepped out, "I just hope it helps. Your friend looked like a real sweetheart."

Lloyd said there was just enough time to talk to Dareth before his absence at home was enough to be suspicious, and we began our walk there. I looked back once at _Chen's Noodlehouse,_ watching the remaining lights flicker out.

In my mind, I thanked Skylor one more time. Although there was still a lot to figure out, at least now I had a pair of eyes on the face of Cole's killer, a pair I could stare into and challenge.

* * *

 **I've noticed the last several chapters have been criminally short, so I made this one super long to make up for it. I hope you enjoyed! Thank you for reading!**


	28. Chapter 28

**I own nothing but the story.**

* * *

"What do you think, Zane?" I asked as we walked, three in a line beneath yellowed streetlights.

Zane didn't look at me, "About what?"

"What else? Skylor's story. Do you think it's connected?"

Zane licked his chapped lips, "It…sounds similar. I'm not sure what to make of the eyes, though." He said 'eyes' with an inflection I didn't care for.

"I believe her!" chimed Lloyd.

"Of course, you would," said Zane, trudging along with a frown on his face, "You've had years of tall tales twisted into your head."

Lloyd stopped, glaring at Zane, "I know what I'm talking about," he said, "Skylor came to me that day her father went missing; why do you think I acted so strongly when you first arrived?" a pause, then, "Do you really think I'm gullible enough to believe in monsters from stories alone?"

"Of course not," Zane sighed, rubbing a hand at his brow before turning, "I just want to explore all possible explanations before I look into the...unknown."

I frowned, "What makes this monster any less likely?"

"Facts, Jay."

"These are facts!" I exclaimed, "How do you explain a person disappearing in one place and appearing in another in seconds? How do you explain that weird stuff with the car? How do you think Cole died?" I shook a fist in frustration.

Zane glared at me. "'Monster' is an umbrella term. You are using it simply to fill in the blanks without considering if other explanations are possible," pausing, he frowned, "Why are you so determined to believe in monsters?"

I inhaled, puffing out my chest at his gaze, "Why are you so determined to not believe in them?"

He didn't have an answer for that, and after a second, he faced forward again and kept walking. I looked at Lloyd and walked next to him for the remainder of the trip, deciding that I liked him better than Zane at the moment.

We managed to make small talk along the way, a feat that I think surprised both of us. We spoke of many things; ranging first from comics to family.

"So, Wu used to live here?" I asked, watching my breath dissipate into a fog.

"Yeah," said Lloyd, "He was a teacher down at the edge of the block here," he pointed out the street for emphasis, "I used to dream of the day when I'd get his class. He left before I could, though," he was silent a moment before adding, softly, "Morro was one of his students."

"That so?"

"Yeah, he never liked it, though," he suddenly perked up, "By the way," he reached into his pocket, pulling out a small, black wallet, "I wanted to show you this."

I leaned forward, eyebrows rising as I stared at a photo of a family of three; a younger, bucktoothed Lloyd looked out from between two parents, one I recognized as Misako, the other…

"Is that your dad?"

"Yeah," Lloyd smiled, "I thought I should show you…since you showed us Cole."

"He looks," I smiled, "nice."

"He was," Lloyd's voice got quiet, "He was."

Little else was said until we arrived at Dareth's place, the lights in the front washing a blinding glow over the street. Lloyd stepped forward. "We have to enter through the dojo," he put a hand to Zane's shoulder, stopping him from walking through the door, "That's out back."

"Why mustn't I enter here?" said Zane, still moody.

Lloyd had already started his path through an alley, "It's a bar."

Zane and I looked at each other.

 _Oh._

* * *

Raunchy sounds of drunken karaoke carried from the bar to the empty room around us, the only sound aside from the jingle of beads Dareth had hanging from each doorway.

The dojo was an odd place; it looked more like what an idiot thought a dojo would look like, rather than a place that children were supposed to learn.

Lloyd gestured for us to sit next to a stand of what I was pretty sure were bogus trophies, while he went off to, "See if Dareth was still in."

"Wouldn't he stay until closing time?" asked Zane.

Lloyd offered a thin-lipped smile, "He invites rather tough patrons."

He didn't say any more than that and ran off before we could ask any more. The silence that followed was one of the most awkward since I'd first met Zane, when we were trapped in that stage where neither of us knew what to talk about.

I looked at him, stuck with that permanent frown on his face. Although Zane never smiled much before Cole died, he never looked so unhappy. I knew that it was foolish to wish for things to go back to normal, but I did wish that where we could at least behave like we used to.

"Are you excited?" I asked.

I immediately felt horrified, but Zane released a snort that might have been a stifled laugh, in another place, another time, "In a morbid sense, I would say I am. I just want some answers," he shifted his weight, "When I worked with Dareth back on...that day...he spoke only of lies. Lies he might believe are true, but lies nonetheless. We'll have to make sure he doesn't do that today."

I suspected the last thing he wanted to hear was another story about strange beings. Pursing my lips, I was about to reply when I heard the distinct drawl of Dareth's voice echo from the hallway.

"It's just a joke we have," chuckled the man, "They like to throw me out by my collar, and I like to hang out in the street."

"I know, Dareth," said Lloyd.

"You'll understand when you're older."

"I know, Dareth."

They entered the room, and Lloyd gestured to us, "We need to talk to you."

The big bellied man hovered by the archway, squinting at us in the dim light before releasing a cry of surprise.

"You!" he pointed a finger at me before turning it to Zane, "and you! I know you! Uh..." his face suddenly reddened, and he brought his hands together to fiddle, "Hey, uh, sorry about your friend—erm, it's really a bummer. He looked like a nice kid, too. Real friendly."

My lip curled inward, and Zane visibly winced before Lloyd put a hand to Dareth's bicep (if one could call it that) and said, "We need you to tell us that story of yours."

"Hm?" Dareth turned as he let Lloyd sit him down with the rest of us, "The one about how I fought off three thugs with one arm and a broken leg?"

Lloyd plopped down to the carpet with a huff, "I think you know which one."

Dareth glanced between Zane and I. Hopeful, I gave him a smile, which he seemed to appreciate. "You came all the way here to hear that story?" he said. With a grin and a shake of his head, the smarmy tone of voice returned once again, "You'll have to buckle up, because it's a real riveter, I tell you what!"

"Before we begin," Zane cut in, "I want you to keep this entirely factual. Only tell us the things you saw; no speculations, no tall tales, no exaggerating; got it?"

Dareth blinked, put out. "Yes sir."

Silence.

Lloyd thrust an elbow into Dareth's side, and the man burst into story, regaling with practiced ease, "It was a dark and stormy night in the middle of summer—"

"Was it actually stormy?"

I sighed. Zane was already interrupting.

Dareth stared at him, then flushed, "It was a little cloudy," he muttered. Clearing his throat, he continued, with a little less enthusiasm, "It was a dark and cloudy night in the middle summer, and I was out on a mission," grin returning, he launched forward, "I was needed in the Wailing Alps to complete an important job; Ronin sent me, and it's top secret, so I can't tell you the reasons why," he winked at us, "I'd just gotten out of town when the weirdest thing happened. I was driving along, minding my own business, when I was suddenly confronted by this horrifying monster!"

He threw his hands out for emphasis, and Zane cocked his head to the side.

"How so?"

Dareth's grin became strained, "I'm getting there, oh eager one. There's a natural build to these stories, you know," rubbing his hands together, he started again, "There I am, driving along the narrow highway, the headlights are flickering, my eyes are drooping. I start to see shadows flashing across the road, and first I think that it is just my tired mind playing tricks on me," he held out a finger and wagged it, "but no, no, no! No sooner did the clock strike midnight did my car suddenly break down!"

Zane popped his knuckles; I didn't need to ask to know that he was skeptical, "How did this happen?"

"Well," a look of genuine confusion crossed Dareth's face, "I dunno, that was always the part I wasn't sure about," he scratched at his head, "You see, the headlights started flickering, and I thought it was just my old jalopy acting up, but they just turned off completely."

My eyes snapped to Lloyd's, and we shared a nonverbal conversation on the spot.

 _That was it. We had it._

Almost. If the rest of the details added up, then there must be monster in the woods, and that was the thing that took Cole away from me. The thought struck me with a terror I could feel all the way down into my marrow.

"I pulled over," Dareth spoke, paused, cleared his throat, and started again, louder, "I pulled over, and set my car into park. I was going to get out and see what was wrong, when what should I see but a pair of eyes staring at me from behind a tree."

Zane let out a quick exhale, but he remained silent this time.

"They were large eyes, eyes that glowed in the dark! And when I say glow," his wide eyes betrayed the small touch of fear lurking behind his description, "I mean _glow._ They weren't glowing like when you shine a flashlight on a deer or something, they were actually glowing! They were brighter than everything around, even the moon!"

I blinked, "Moon?"

"Yeah," Dareth scratched at the three hairs lining the bottom of his chin, "That's how I was able to see it. It's pretty tough to see in the dark y'know?" he nudged Lloyd and shook his head, "And boy, what a sight. I can't talk about it today without shivering. I couldn't…it looked like someone had taken your nightmares and given life to it; just the worst possible thing a man can see on the side of the road in the middle of the night."

"Enough similes," said Zane, "What did it _look_ like?"

"Well, now," said Dareth, "It looked…like a man—"

Zane's eyebrows rose in the first positive expression he'd given since he arrived.

"—but like, if a man were several meters tall and missing his bottom jaw."

The expression—whatever it was—died, and a frown took its place. My eyes were wide.

"And it…I swear it was made entirely out of the shadows it was hiding in" the smarmy tone gone, Dareth looked at us, as confused and curious as we were, "That's how dark its skin was. It was skinny, and it hunched over, you know, it stood like a wilting flower. Could've passed for one, too. It had limbs poking out of it on all sides!"

At this, the three of us frowned, and I said, "What?"

"I swear it, officer—I mean children!" Dareth held out his hands, "This guy had arms like you wouldn't believe!"

Zane was rubbing at his temple again, "Are you sure?"

"I mean…" Dareth squirmed, "I _suppose_ that some of them could've been tree branches, but I know it had at least two!"

I released a breath that might have come off as a groan.

"It was…" Dareth was nodding, "It was scary. I wasn't gonna risk my hide to make sure my car was okay. I just stayed in there."

"What did it do?"

Dareth leaned forward, "Get this," he said, "It watched me the whole time! It didn't leave until the sun came up!"

Zane suddenly perked up. "You stayed until sunrise?"

"It wasn't like I could drive away! Did I mention that my car broke down?"

Zane's jaw fell, "And you watched it until then?"

"Just said so, didn't I?"

I looked at Lloyd.

"So…" said Zane, still unbelieving, "You really got a good look at this thing."

"What, do you think I'd make this up?" Dareth scoffed, "My nightmares aren't near scary enough to come up with a creature like that! I doubt someone like Ronin's nightmares could come up with a creature like that," he shook his head for emphasis.

I turned my head to the side, "Where did it go when the sun came up?"

"That's another thing," Dareth squinted at me, "It didn't _go_ anywhere. It didn't even move. It just…disappeared. Disappeared with the darkness."

My own jaw went slack, both from amazement and fear.

"After it disappeared, my car suddenly started working again," Dareth shook his head, "so I turned around and went home," a beat passed, and he looked back up and stared at Lloyd, "You know what's funny? Everyone in town says that there's a monster in the woods, but no one ever believed me."

I winced, and silence overtook us for the time being.

Then, Lloyd placed a hand on his friend's arm, "I did. I do."

Dareth smiled.

That seemed to conclude Dareth's story, for everything after, according to Lloyd, was history. From Dareth's story, the monster was born, and people disappeared. While Dareth had answered all the questions I had, I looked to Zane, in case he had any more. He was silent, however, a perplexed frown etched across his face.

We said goodbye to Dareth soon after, deciding that we'd been out late enough for the night. His farewell was a jovial one, despite the depressing situation. I thought he was just glad that he'd finally told a story that didn't end in laughter.

Zane took the lead again, hands in his pockets and brow furrowed. I walked with Lloyd, and though we didn't talk, we both shared the same thought we had earlier in the evening.

 _We had it_.

* * *

 **Thank you for reading!**


	29. Chapter 29

**I own nothing but the story.**

* * *

"Believe it now, Zane?" I hadn't meant to sound snooty or indignant upon our entrance back into the hideout, but I couldn't help but feel a morbid sense of pride in knowing that our experiences hadn't been a series of misunderstandings misconstrued into the supernatural.

"Two accounts of a beast in the woods does not make it our killer," Zane refused to look at me, and I noticed the pink in his cheeks that signified his anger.

I think he knew what the explanation was, which I was quick to point out: "You said it yourself that their accounts would be what solves this mystery of ours," I dropped with a flop on top of the couch, "Think about it—their stories match ours down to the last detail; how can you be so dismissive of them?"

Zane suddenly threw Cole's folder against the table, sending its contents flying and refusing to answer my question.

I found that alright, because I came up with an answer of my own: "Is it because what they said doesn't match up with your narrative?" I almost smiled upon finishing the sentence; I knew Zane wouldn't care for his own ideas being used against him.

Zane turned to glare at me, the room temperature practically dropping under his icy gaze. Undeterred, I cocked up my chin and tilted my head back, daring him to protest my statement. He just turned back around, however, and let me alone.

Nothing more was said when Lloyd finally entered the room, having returned from the front, where he appeased his frantic mother.

"You guys good?" he called.

We hummed various noises of approval, the sounds coming off far more downtrodden than either of us likely anticipated. Lloyd walked over and slumped into the cushions next to me, lips pursed. A moment passed, and all was quiet, until he whispered, "I knew there was a monster out there. I've always known. Mom always told me not to believe those stories, but that's too many coincidences to lead up to nothing."

"We still do not know," Zane muttered.

I rolled my eyes, turning to Lloyd, "I think there's a monster out there, too."

"I know you do."

"It's the only thing that explains it, Zane," I looked at my friend's, the stranger's, back.

"Explains what, may I ask?" Zane sounded miserable.

I snorted, "Everything."

The only thing we'd left to learn was the what and how. If there was something out there, what was it? How had it managed to get there? What was it doing, and how was it living? And, most importantly, what now?

"What now?" Lloyd echoed, seemingly having read my mind.

What were we to do with this information? Though this proved that there was something there, it wasn't as though we had any means of investigating the claims.

We looked to Zane, a boy who had answers to everything, even if they weren't always correct, but he still faced away from us, his eyes on Cole's scattered folder.

A boundless moment passed, and I turned to Lloyd, "I think we should call it a night."

It would seem odd to try and sleep after everything we'd learned today, but what else was there for us to do? Lloyd looked between us, then blinked, nodded, and stood. He offered a small goodnight on his way back up the stairs, taking the time to look back at us another time before disappearing.

All was quiet.

Though I was happy over all that we'd learned today, the victory this seemed to be was a hollow one, because even now things felt incomplete. Even now, pieces were missing in this massive jigsaw.

Zane turned, vacant eyes finding the couch. I got up, so he could sit. I hoped tomorrow that he would know what to do. Even if he didn't—or rather, wouldn't—believe the possibility of a monster in the woods, he would at least come up with something for us to do with the information we learned today. Something to take us forward.

Now, we had nothing.

The peace I desired when I went to sleep didn't come.

* * *

 _The woods aren't jagged today._

 _That is the first thing I notice._

 _Fog billows out from behind grey trees, shrouding the world in a chilly haze. I look towards the sky, also grey. A round sun just barely peeks through._

 _I know that Cole is there before he makes a sound, and I turn, giving him a smile._

" _You're here," I say._

 _He looks different from last time. Barefoot on the leaves, he stands, slumped, shoulders sagged. It is not the confident gait he used to sport, and the smile I donned drops within a second._

" _Are you alright?" I ask, stepping forward._

 _His eyes are red at the rims, but unlike before, when they were bright and full of light, these are sick, tired, scared. The corners of his lips are slightly downturned, not exactly a frown, but hardly an expression to ease my mind. I take another step forward, but he is no closer to me._

 _Panic striking, I break into a run, tearing through frosted underbrush, tripping over massive roots, but he remains far from my reach. Tears spring to my eyes, but I turn away, refusing to let them fall down my cheeks._

" _Cole!" I call, "I don't know what to do!"_

 _For the first time, he moves, cocking his head to the side._

" _I know that something awful happened to you," I continue, "I know that some—something got you. A monster that got other people, too."_

 _Cole blinks, unresponsive._

" _I want to help you," I say, "I want to bring you home. I want to help you and Morro and Garmadon—"_

 _At these names, he twitches, and I silence._

" _I—" I say, "I want to help you. But I don't know what to do."_

 _His red-rimmed eyes snap to me, and at last he moves. One shaking hand rises, pointing to his neck. I follow the movement, brow furrowing. He continues to point, his stare going wide._

 _I open my mouth in question, but no noise leaves my lips._

 _Cole lifts his chin, pointing again._

 _I step forward, wishing that I could get closer, wishing that I could reach him._

 _He frowns, then shakes his hand, gesturing wildly._

 _I'm in the middle of shaking my head when I notice the bruises. I recognize them from the crime scene photos, but they're different, this time. Like his eyes, they're red at the edges, almost like they were fresh._

That's impossible, _I think, moving a hand to scratch at my head._

 _Cole refuses to say anything, and eventually drops his hand, frowning._

 _I call out to him again, asking for him to talk to me, help me out, give me a clue, something, something, something!_

 _But he shakes his head, walking backwards until the fog swallows him whole. I follow, crying out again and again, but I can't see him anymore. On the edges of my vision, I can see what I think to be figures running through the white mist, but they disappear before I can get a good look._

 _I tell myself not to cry, but I'm sure I did, eventually; I walk through the grey woods, shouting for someone who had long since left me._

* * *

When I woke, I was frustrated.

It was a silly thing, to be frustrated over a dream, but it was more than that. To be able to see Cole with such clarity and in such an uncertain setting made it all crueler to wake up and return to a reality as horrible as this.

And I still couldn't figure out what to do.

I rolled over, closing my eyes and frowning.

There was a monster in the woods.

Cole was in the woods.

Releasing a growl, I opened my eyes and shifted in my bedding. In my field of vision, I could see the table holding Cole's scattered papers, and I grimaced.

What I would give to see him smile at me again.

Moonlight fell over the floor, and a wall clock told me that it was well past midnight; too early to get up, too late to work a while longer. I shifted again, tilting my head up so that it rested on a cooler side.

Some papers had dispersed over the floor, as well, resting in odd corners and crannies. The sight of it made me sick.

All the same, I pulled a hand from the warmth of my blanket cocoon and lifted a paper near me. It was tough to make out in the darkness, so I squinted to get a better look, hoping that it wasn't the body diagram the officer had showed my parents.

A second passed, and I suddenly snapped straight up, flicking the sheet erect as I held it higher in the moon's light. My jaw dropped, and I could see Cole in my mind's eye, pointing, frustrated, at his neck.

Clutching the paper tight in my fist, I twisted on the spot, shoving at Zane's sleeping back until he woke up.

* * *

 **Thank you for reading!**


	30. Chapter 30

**I own nothing but the story.**

* * *

"Listen, Jay," Lloyd tucked a few strands of hair behind his ear, "Don't put all your hopes into this, okay? Ronin is smart, but he's not that smart."

We walked a brisk pace through the cold, making a steady path to the police station. In my hand I held the sheet of paper with the markings that had been found on Cole's neck, the paper that I was certain would be the key to making sense of our stories.

"And I can't guarantee," continued Lloyd, huffing as he struggled to keep up—he really had short legs, "that he'll be so eager to help us, you know?"

I chewed at a pouch of skin on the inside of my lip, but I refused to let my hopes be dampened, "He'll help us."

"What makes you think these markings will be of any use?" said Zane, an eyebrow quirked, "No one could figure them out before; who's to say that they can be deciphered now?"

"Call it a hunch," said I, giving the paper another look as I marched forward.

I wasn't going to say that Cole might be contacting me from beyond the grave. Nor would I say that my mind might be subconsciously figuring things out on its own and using the image of my dead friend as a vector for that. I didn't know what to make of the dreams, to be honest, but I'd be lying if I said that they were wrong.

We were on to something, I was sure of it.

The police station was quiet today; I suspected that aside from the monster in the woods and Ronin himself, nothing much happened that they would be of use to. Before we could reach the door, Lloyd grabbed us by our shirts and led us around the back, stopping at a window too small to climb in or out of.

"I've worked out a special deal," he said.

That explained how he got my home phone number.

"When he's not working on cases, they have him in here sorting files," Lloyd explained. He looked me over for a moment before he lifted his fist and knocked a rhythm on the glass.

Fear spiked a path through my heart, but the feeling was eased when the frame swung inward and Ronin called out a harried, "What do you want, Lloyd?"

At Lloyd's nudge, we stood, and Ronin immediately backed up, throwing up his palms.

"Woah…" he said, his lone eye glancing between Zane and I's faces, "This isn't part of the deal, kid!"

"We need your help," said Lloyd.

He looked at us, caught off guard, then, still scrutinizing us with the only eye he had, he said, "That'll cost extra."

"I have twelve dollars."

"Throw in a few extra zeros and you've got my attention."

"Ronin." I cut in, too eager to wait a second longer. I rested a palm along the windowsill, "We think there's something in the woods killing people," I pulled from my pocket the now wrinkled list of names Lloyd had given me several nights ago, "Do these names ring a bell?"

Giving me a suspicious squint, Ronin slowly eyed the list, scanning it and frowning, "Some of these people aren't even dead."

"Just missing."

"Yeah."

"We think they're dead," I continued, my heart pounding within my chest, "And we think that some strange…thing in the woods killed them; we think it killed Cole. But we won't know for sure unless—" I held up the sheet of strange marks, "—unless you look at these."

Though a moment passed where I worried he wouldn't cooperate, Ronin took the sheet and brought it in for a better view. I held my breath. He was shaking his head, but he was at least listening, something I could work with.

"That's a wild assumption, boy."

"Well," heat rose to my cheeks, "We think it got Cole, at least."

Ronin was quiet, "What makes you think I can figure these out?"

Zane raised his eyebrows, looking at me as well.

"I know you can," I eventually deflected, "You'll have to if you want these deaths in the woods to stop."

Ronin scoffed, but still he didn't put down the paper.

"Please," I said, "I know you can do it. We want to find out what happened to our friend."

Ronin's fingers tapped a dance along the sill, "I think…" he said, his eye still on the paper, "that you might be grasping at straws here, kid."

"Maybe," I conceded, "but all we've got is a few straws."

He released a chuckle, then brought the paper down, looking back to the three of us, "Say I do give this another look. How do you plan on paying for my services?"

I immediately gawked, but Lloyd piped up, "If you agree, you'll be working as a detective, therefore your payment will come in the form of taxes."

I almost grinned at Lloyd's quick thinking, but Ronin spoke up again.

"Alright," he said, "but you'll have to buy my silence if you want to keep this meetup under the table. What'll it be? One hundred? Two hundred?"

Lloyd's voice went quiet, "I have twelve dollars."

Ronin pursed his lips, and my hopes dropped like a stone.

"I'll let you eat at my mom's place for free!" Lloyd tried.

"I'd rather take the twelve dollars."

Zane suddenly stepped forward, "I have a car. If you'll help us, I'll sell it to a junkyard and pay you in cash."

A beat of silence passed, punctuated by the speechless gape of nearly all our mouths.

"You—" said Ronin, "Are you serious?"

I looked at Zane, asking the same question with my gaze. What was he thinking? That car was our only way home.

Zane had eyes only for Ronin, "I would not make the offer if I wasn't. Now, will you help us or not?"

Ronin blinked, Lloyd stared, and I stepped backwards.

After a second, Ronin pulled the sheet inside with him and said, "You've got yourself a deal, kiddo. I'll call you if I find anything."

* * *

 **To everyone who still keeps up with this mess: thank you. You're wonderful.**

 **Thank you all for reading this far! Have a fantastic week!**


	31. Chapter 31

"Did you mean that, Zane?" I asked as we lumbered home. "You're really going to sell the car?"

"Of course."

Lloyd glanced over, "I thought you didn't believe there was a monster."

"Who's to say that anything on that sheet indicates a monster?"

I groaned, not because of the answer but because I should've expected as much.

Zane gave me a crooked glare. "I do not know what is in the woods. I do not know what to make of these…tales," he suddenly stopped, glaring at the dirt, "I don't even know what to make of our own. But I want to figure this out. If justice for Cole requires my car…then to hell with it."

The problem of returning home remained unaddressed, and I chose to keep it that way. By the look of things, Zane simply wasn't thinking that far ahead. Given the situation, neither was I, and we hadn't been for quite some time.

We walked on in silence, stopping when the café came into view.

"Have we anything else to do?" asked Zane.

"I would ask you the same thing," I said. Case in point; I'd no clue what to do after giving Ronin the sheet of paper. In fact, I'd simply hoped that all our problems would be immediately resolved. "I think we just have to wait for Ronin to get back to us."

"That could take forever," the frown that resided on Zane's face for the past two months deepened, "Is there nothing we can do? Can we ask him to give us the files on the other cases?"

"Too risky," piped Lloyd, "Those files aren't easy to get. If Ronin gives them to us, the police will be on to him like white on rice."

Zane began shaking his head, "I won't be able to stand sitting around and waiting."

His voice rose to a whine, something I'd never heard him do before. I sighed, unable to recognize him as the friend I'd made. I placed a hand on his arm, regretting that I bothered him into coming back into all this, "We will," I said, "We will." Despite everything, I was nearly certain we were. The answers were close; I could feel it in my bones.

"You know..." said Lloyd, voice quiet.

Zane paused in his ramblings, and we turned to him.

"We…" Lloyd's lips were slightly curled at the corners, like he was trying to hold back a smile, but his voice was unsure, "We don't have to go back and wait around."

I blinked, "What do you mean?"

"I mean," Lloyd was stuttering over his words, "If—if you want…we could hang out around town. There's a frozen yogurt place across from Dareth's bar that we could eat at."

"My, my," said I, "Nothing like frozen yogurt in the middle of winter."

Lloyd flushed, but I felt an odd sense of excitement quiver in my gut at the idea. Maybe there was something in the air, or maybe I was just high off the progress we'd made the past few days, but I was feeling…not good, but better. Better than I had in a long time. "That sounds like fun."

Lloyd looked up, almost amazed that I didn't refuse. Zane wasn't so quick to join in.

"We could be seen, recognized, sent home. Then what?" he grimaced, "We'll go the rest of our lives never knowing what happened."

"That's the thing, though!" said Lloyd, "It's winter, so the frozen yogurt place will be empty! You'll be fine, I swear it!"

Zane still appeared hesitant, so I brought an arm around his shoulders, pulling him close, "We'll be fine," I said, trying to sound as sure as I could.

Zane was skeptical, and though even I couldn't figure out why I had this confidence, he allowed himself to be led to the yogurt place, for once walking instead of trudging along.

It felt good to feel better.

* * *

"It's a shame we didn't come here last night!" I dipped my spoon into the dish beneath me, making sure to scoop up as many chocolate chips as I could.

The yogurt place, a cozy building dead across from Dareth's unsightly bar, was marvelous. It sat completely empty in the middle of the afternoon, and though the walls and floors looked like the inside of a dollhouse, it also had some of the best tasting desserts I think I ever tried, my mother's cooking included.

"I do not think we'd be able to stomach it," Zane spoke in a flat tone, but he was smiling. It was a small expression, barely there, but it was near the greatest thing I'd seen in weeks.

He had a petite bowl of vanilla in front of him, rainbow sprinkles only there after I'd snuck them on. Lloyd sat on my other side, chuckling to himself as he devoured a bowl of the most atrocious combination of junk food I'd ever seen.

"After everything you guys have been through, I think you deserve a bowl of frozen yogurt," he gave a sad smirk into his dish, "You know, I've never eaten here with friends, before."

I frowned, but didn't pause in my eating, "Seriously? This place is probably packed full of cliques in the summer," I imagined that my own group of friends might even hang out in a place like this, given the chance. All sunshine and smiles, we'd be covered in sweat and dirt. This thought came with a stab of pain when I remembered that Cole would no longer be a part of such a group, so I focused on the bowl in front of me.

"It is," said Lloyd, fiddling with his spoon, "but the truth is…I never actually had many friends."

I remembered Skylor's comment from the day before and shared a glance with Zane.

"My dad was always the one to take me here."

Zane took a spoonful of yogurt, speaking softly, "That so?"

"Yeah," Lloyd smiled, a distant look on his face, "He always took me in winter, because Mom hated it when we went in the summer. This place is the biggest rival for her café, and during the summer, all the customers come here," he paused to take a bite of his food, "It all evens out though; her place is flooded during the winter. Dad used to help out back then, and on his lunch break, he'd take me here." A small frown appeared on his face when he swallowed next, "This is the first time I've been here since."

I eyed Lloyd as he refused to finish his sentence. Suddenly overcome with a wave of guilt, I rested a hand on his forearm.

"Hey," I said, "I'm sorry."

"What for?" said Lloyd, "You didn't kill him."

"No," I huffed, "I'm—I'm sorry for being so terrible to you when we first met. I was…a big fat jerk."

Lloyd waved a hand, shaking his head, "You had every right. You were worried for your friend, and I wasn't telling you everything," he paused, inhaling, "sometimes I wonder if it would have changed anything if I did."

There was a moment of silence after this, and Zane suddenly looked away, facing outside, his expression gone dark.

"I don't—" I wasn't sure what to say, "I don't think anything would have changed."

Lloyd scoffed, "Like you would know that."

He was right. I didn't. I would ask myself similar questions at night, lying awake in bed, "Either way," I said, "There's nothing we can do about it now, and I want to thank you for all that you've done for us."

A sad smile curled across his face, "It's the least I can do."

It was more than that, and I wished that I could find the proper words to express my gratitude, but before I could open my mouth, Zane let out a sharp call.

"Jay!" he said.

I twisted on the spot. Zane still looked out the window, a finger floating halfway in the air, eyes wide and mouth parted.

"What?" I said, leaning over him to glance around.

"Look—" Zane was breathless, "that—look at Dareth's place."

I followed the line his finger made, brow furrowed and mind on alert. After a moment, I stood, jaw dropping.

Parked out in front of Dareth's bar was Lou Brookstone's little black car.

* * *

 ***Crawls out of hole this fic now lives in* So yes, I'm still working on this flaming dumpster fire of a story. Hopefully it'll be done before next year. *laughs through tears***

 **For everyone who's bothered to read and continued to read this after so long, thank you. You guys are seriously the best, and I hope to give you an ending that is satisfying.**

 **Until then, thank you for reading! Have a fantastic day!**


	32. Chapter 32

**I own nothing but the story.**

* * *

"It serves us right," said Zane three days later, "We shouldn't have been out having fun."

From my spot on the couch, I lifted the arm over my eyes and stared at him, "What do you mean?"

Zane was poring through Cole's folder, carrying on his ceaseless and fruitless search, not even looking up as he responded, "We shouldn't have gotten frozen yogurt. We should have come back and worked."

I frowned, "It wouldn't have made a difference; there's nothing left in there that can help us."

"We shouldn't have gone," said Zane, "We shouldn't have rested."

I rolled my eyes, returning my arm to its original position.

We hadn't stuck around long after discovering that Cole's father was parked across the street. We'd enough nerve to approach the car and glance around the inside before booking it back to the café, unable to believe that we'd been tracked so quickly.

Though, we weren't even sure of that.

Lou had weapons in the backseat of his car, deadly ones, like rifles, bear traps, even a crossbow. While we'd first assumed that he was here after us, the sight convinced us otherwise.

I hoped it was otherwise. I knew that Lou wasn't the best person, but I didn't think him horrible. Not like that.

We made it back to the café with the inclination that we weren't going to leave again unless we had to. If Lou was here, we reasoned, then others would surely follow.

With no word from Ronin, and only sparse visits from a busy Lloyd, it quickly became boring.

 _No,_ I thought, _Not boring. Nightmarish._

In the window's view was the woods, the terrain that killed Cole. Their terrific magnitude seemed almost like a taunt now, because I knew that there was a monster in there. If I closed my eyes, I could see it lumbering through moonlight on two twisted, haggard legs, arms—sometimes two, sometimes seven—hanging low off a body bent in an unnatural coil.

The face would change. Sometimes it had long, jagged teeth, the only end to its skull. Sometimes, it was bald, a few strands of hair hanging from rotted, blackened flesh. Still other times, it had claws like knives and hands like clubs, making the same awful noise we'd heard the night it took Cole.

Sometimes I would see Cole.

He would run—shoeless, with only one sock—between the trees at top speed, the fear I knew was on his face hidden behind shaggy, tangled black hair. Then I'd see the monster. It would change, but the eyes always stayed the same.

Angry and bright, they served the only warning before Cole cried out and disappeared into the shadows.

It never failed to make a scream crawl up, but not leave, my throat.

I couldn't.

So I would cry.

Or laugh.

Or joke.

I lay on the couch, an arm over my eyes, and Zane sat at the table, looking through Cole's folder, looking for answers that weren't there.

I began to hate staying in that basement, the sound of Zane flipping through page after page of our friend's death.

Lloyd brought down a phone, insisting that when Ronin called—he was sure to use the word 'when'—that he would call from that phone.

"You gotta answer it on the first ring, alright?" he said, writing the number Ronin would call from down on a napkin, "Mom'll get suspicious otherwise."

"What happens if it isn't Ronin?" asked Zane.

"It'll be Ronin," said Lloyd, "If you get another number, just hang up."

Alright.

Part of me hoped that it wouldn't ring unless Lloyd was here, but after three days of silence, I was willing to brave a sales call if it meant getting out of the funk we were trapped in.

At the table, Zane had finally stilled, signaled to me only by the absent noises of flicking papers.

He was whispering to himself, berating himself for going out to get the yogurt, for daring to focus on something other than the case.

This stupid case.

"Could you shut up!" I finally snapped, speaking in a voice louder than I intended, "It was just yogurt! We were fine!"

"No, we weren't! We could have been caught; Lou was just outside! Then we never would have solved this. We needed to be here, helping Cole."

"He's beyond help! You're acting crazy!" as I said this, a lump appeared in my throat, and all I could see was the image of Cole, standing slumped and barefoot alone in the fog, faceless figures wandering around him.

I wondered if those dreams were real, or if I'd gone crazy, and had been crazy for a long time.

"You don't understand," said Zane, his voice low, almost inaudible.

For some reason, this statement alone made me angrier than I'd been in the past week. Lifting away my arm, I sat up, livid. "I don't understand? _I_ don't understand?"

Zane's head dropped as the hands gripping the table tightened.

"Just what do I don't understand?" I asked, my words spat out, "The pain of losing my brother and best friend? The frustration of not knowing what happened to him? The horror that he died all alone in the woods, at the hands of something that might not even be human? Knowing that I was _right there_ when he disappeared? That I'm going to go the rest of my life without ever seeing him again?! You think I don't understand?!"

Zane's face was hard, and he wouldn't look at me.

 _The nerve…_ He wouldn't even look at me.

"Zane," I said, "Since we've gotten here, you've acted like a jerk _,_ and I'm sick of it. If you've got a problem, just sit down and tell me instead of letting it eat you alive, damnit!"

Zane finally lifted his head, eyeing me with an angry stare, "I do not have a problem, Jay," he whispered my name as a growl, somehow coming off worse than if he actually yelled it, "if I did," continued he, "I wouldn't tell the likes of you!—you…snake!" he settles with, closing the folder with a slam.

Goodness, I wished I could scream. I wish I could yell, cry, curse. Hell, I'd even brave the woods again if it meant getting the sweet sense of relief I've been denied.

For a while, we glared at each other, sick of ourselves and sick of the environment when something interrupted our standoff.

I almost didn't register it at first; I'd been so focused on my anger that it was hard to hear past the rushing of fluids in my ears, but the phone rang again, and I snapped back into focus. We turned at the same time, giving it a stare before I approached the device with a single stride.

I turned a glance at Zane when I raised it to my ear, answering without bothering to check the number. I was lucky it was Ronin.

"Lloyd?" he greeted before I could say anything, his voice husky over the phone.

My heart pounded. "Jay. What's up?"

Ronin was quiet at first, infuriatingly so. It'd been quiet too long for this.

"Is Lloyd there?" he said, his voice oddly soft.

"He's at school," I spilled. At this point, Zane had stood, standing close next to me. The anger wasn't gone, I think, but he'd placed it on hold for now.

"What time is he out?" said Ronin.

I set my teeth, "Soon, alright? He'll be out when he's ready! Now tell us what you're going to tell him! Did you find anything or not?"

Beside me, Zane held his breath.

Ronin was quiet, quiet, quiet, then, "I think you need to come see this."

He hung up before I could respond, and Zane and I looked at each other.

* * *

 **Semi-consistent updating? What is this?**

 **We'll see how long it lasts. Thank you for reading!**


	33. Chapter 33

**I own nothing but the story.**

* * *

Lloyd didn't arrive fast enough, and I couldn't blame him, but I figured that if Zane and I were brave enough to skip school and leave behind our homes and families, the least Lloyd could do was walk a little faster on the way home.

But I couldn't blame him, because he didn't know.

We were waiting for him on the street corner when he approached, curious and concerned. I'd grabbed him by the elbow, hurrying him along as I raced to explain what Ronin had spoken of over the phone. His eyes remained wide the rest of the way there, and wide they stayed when we walked our path behind the police station and furiously knocked against the glass.

When it opened, it took too long.

Before Ronin could open his mouth, we were bombarding him with questions.

What is it?

What is it?

 _What is it?_

Ronin's face looked odd; it was paler than normal, his eye dark. He looked like he'd seen the face of a ghost, and I was just about ready to rip the answers right out of his throat.

What is it?

What is it?

 _What is it?_

"Kids…"

Somehow, he got a word through our questions, and Zane silenced us with a furious shush and a wave of his hand. It seemed unnecessary, but we quieted anyway, waiting for Ronin to speak.

He had his arms along the windowsill, hands folded and fiddling. I could see the pocket of his coat where his flask resided, undone and almost inside out.

"Boys," he began again, "You know I don't like repeating stuff, so for as long as I'm talking, I don't want you to make a sound, okay?"

We nodded, quickly.

He was quiet, then, inhaling, he said, "Boys, after you left the other day, I didn't know what to do with that sheet of yours. Back when we were examining the—your friend, we didn't know what killed him. I told you that it looked like he just dropped dead, but I meant it. We couldn't come up with a cause, just possibilities."

Question marks were soaring through my brain, my blood ice.

"We eventually settled on dehydration, because it fit the situation best," Ronin ran a hand through his hair, refusing to make eye contact with us, "But we wondered. I wondered…" he finally looked at us, then reached back behind him, pulling up the sheet of marks I'd given him days earlier, "We couldn't figure out what these were. We thought it might have something to do with strangulation—"

Our eyes went wide.

"—but we had to rule that out. Whatever did this wasn't his cause of death," Ronin raised his eyebrows, then turned the sheet around so he could look at it himself, "I didn't know what to do when you left the other day. However," he swallowed, "I remembered that his hyoid bone had been fractured—common with trauma to the neck—I wondered if he was attacked. I looked for types of objects that would makes these marks," a hand absently counted off the items as he began to list, "Cords, wires, ropes, even snakes, at one point," he chuckled, "but there was nothing, just like before."

Zane suddenly grabbed at my hand, squeezing hard.

"I didn't know what to do," he said, glaring at the sheet, "I remember sitting up in my cell at night, just staring at this thing, when I noticed something," he turned the sheet around, holding it out for us to examine, "What do these look like to you, boys?"

We didn't expect him to wait on us to answer, but he was silent, and we looked.

I examined the marks again, running my eyes over their long, skinny shapes. I noticed that the ink was divided into gaps, printed solid while separating into chunks, and that Ronin had circled one on top right with red ink. I tried with all my might to see what Ronin was talking about, but I couldn't figure out what I was looking at. There was nothing on the sheet, aside from Ronin's messy annotations, that we hadn't already seen before.

At our silence, Ronin reached into his pocket and pulled out a ballpoint pen, gesturing to the section marked with a red circle, "You see this?" he said, "Does that not look like a fingerprint?"

My heart stopped beating with a violent shock that I felt down to my toes, and I peered closer at the sheet. I couldn't see it at first, but as I leaned back, squinted, I finally saw what he was talking about, and my stomach dropped.

The section of the marks that he circled looked like the tip of a finger, from the top knuckle up, and there indeed seemed a fingerprint inside of it; an overlarge, elongated one, stretched beyond recognition. The longer I looked, the more I saw: the marks below the circle were the rest of the finger, one of four on the page, almost unrecognizable as anything. Now that Ronin pointed it out, however, the answer seemed obvious.

The marks found on Cole's neck were the marks of large, elongated fingers, belonging to a hand too large to be human.

And yet there were fingerprints.

I had to force myself to breathe again, and Ronin nodded, his face grim.

"I had about the same reaction," he looked towards Lloyd, whose eyes looked like they were about to pop out of his head, "So…" he sighed, turning the paper back towards him, "I scanned it into the computer and measured out the dimensions. I thought if I could doctor it back to a normal fingerprint, I might be able to see if it belonged to anybody."

"Why does it look like that?" Zane interrupted, and I elbowed him hard in the side.

"That wasn't my concern," said Ronin, for once, not irritated at the interruption, "I just needed to see if this was indeed a handprint, first," he paused, then sighed, "I couldn't scale this down to normal measurements because I didn't have the data to do that…so," he sighed again, running a hand through his hair, "I pulled up the files of every resident in this goddamn town…and I stretched each of them out to the size of these marks."

That explained the dark circles under his eyes.

My mouth was parted slightly, and the cold was hurting my throat as I breathed, but I couldn't take my eyes or attention off Ronin.

Slowly, he turned and pulled up another sheet of paper, "I found a match," he said.

He let the silence settle. Upon the sheet was a regular fingerprint next to the stretched one, and though I didn't know any better, at first glance, the prints did seem to match.

I stared at the sheet, stared at Ronin, stared at Zane.

Zane had his lips pursed, then a single, soft word floated out, "Who?"

Ronin got the unsettled look in his eyes again, and his hesitance made Zane impatient.

"Ronin, who? We need to find them! Ask them questions!"

I shook my head, looking at the sheet. Why was there such a disparity in size? A thought hit me, and my heart quivered as I thought of the hand wrapping itself around Cole's neck.

I turned away, suddenly more afraid than I'd ever felt.

"Who is it? Did you give their name to the police?" Zane leaned forward, "Have you spoken with them yourself?"

I got ready to yell at him, but Ronin interrupted his spiel with an odd chuckle, "I think—" he said, "That's impossible, now."

"What do you mean?"

Ronin looked at the sheet, "I've always considered myself level-headed. I believe what I see, but…for the first time, I can't."

I couldn't take this anymore. "Who is the match!?"

Ronin's eye turned towards a bug-eyed Lloyd.

* * *

 **Upon rereading (and further writing) this, I realized that this story is starting to feel like the plot of a bad _X-Files_ episode. I'm also in the middle of writing chapter forty-five, so I've resigned myself to my fate. :')**

 **Thank you all for reading! I hope you have a fantastic day!**


	34. Chapter 34

**I own nothing but the story.**

* * *

Somehow, I knew who it was before Ronin said the name. It wasn't too hard a guess, in hindsight. Ronin asked for Lloyd first, his face stretched like that of someone who'd seen a ghost, and I guess he had, in a way.

The ghost of Lloyd's father.

Lloyd was confused.

Understandable. I was drawing a blank, myself, like my brain was climbing stairs and reached the top thinking there was an extra step. There wasn't one, just air and a scare that makes one's heart jump in surprise.

Lloyd stepped back after hearing the name, frowning, bowing his head. Zane looked affronted, surprised, then angry. I wondered if this was some sort of joke, if Ronin was going to break off into strange, hysterical laughter, but his face gave no indication other than a faint reveal of fear.

Yes, fear.

"What?" said Lloyd.

"I know it sounds like I'm pulling your leg, here," said Ronin, speaking fast, "but this fingerprint is your dad's."

"That's impossible…" said Lloyd, bringing a hand to his frowning forehead, "Dad…Dad's been dead for eight years…we _buried_ him."

"Is some sort of joke?" Zane burst, "A way for you to get your money and to get rid of us?"

Ronin held up his hands, "Keep your money, for all I care. I'm telling you the truth."

"No!" Lloyd suddenly yelled, and the hair on the back of my neck shot straight.

Ronin steeled his teeth, and though he kept his gaze on Lloyd's face, his head turned to the side, towards the door the police would enter.

"Kid—" he tried.

"You're sick!" Lloyd said, still shouting at a volume loud enough to warrant some furious shushing.

"Have you made sure?" Zane asked again, shoulders trembling with anger.

"I wouldn't say a name if I wasn't sure," said Ronin, "I checked three times."

"Sick!" said Lloyd again, hands ripping through his bangs and pulling them back from his face.

Zane was angry, too, enough that he didn't bother trying to stop Lloyd from giving us away. I tried grabbing at Lloyd's hand, hoping to provide a gentle touch, some sort of sign that said, "Hey, there's no reason to freak out over this; there's probably a logical explanation, one that doesn't include the idea of your father's reanimated corpse, so why don't you just calm down?"

Unfortunately, the hand I used to grab his shaking wrist wasn't enough to convey this message, for he jolted backwards, eyes wide as he glared at the fingerprints.

"You're sick, Ronin!" he said, "Sick! Sick! Sick! Sick!"

"Zane!" I fixed a pleading stare at my friend, but he was looking at Ronin, face set in a cold fury.

"Kids," Ronin sounded desperate, "I know I'm not always trustworthy, but please believe me. I've nearly made up my mind on taking this out to the rest of the team."

The thought of anyone else possibly knowing about what we were doing was enough for me to attempt for control.

"You can't do that!" I said, snatching the paper from his hands, feeling it like a hot stone in my hands, "If you hand this off, someone will know that we're here."

"You can't keep something like this a secret," said Ronin, "It's unbelievable, maybe, but that cannot excuse the fact that a dead man's fingerprints were, at some point, on the body of your friend."

And they were so big, so long, so warped.

I clutched the sheet to the point of crumpling it, stinging eyes glaring at it as my resolve began spiraling dangerously close to panic. Lloyd kept his hands pressed to the sides of his head, which he dropped down and up again as Ronin continued trying to reason with us.

"Look," he said, "I'm not trying to start anything, nor will I go to the police behind your back, but I think you should come out of whatever rock you're hiding under; you need to talk to the chief yourself."

We couldn't do that; we couldn't do that. I looked at Zane, hungry for an answer, even now that we had ours.

But he had none.

We had answers, but we still had none.

Lloyd suddenly turned and ran, rushing from the spot before Ronin could tell him that the prints were his father's another time. He ran erratically, insane. With no other choice, we followed, sparing Ronin a few glances, ranging from cold to apologetic.

Time was stopped as we walked, dazed, after Lloyd. The trees seemed to stretch above us, warped and skinny. Ronin just stood at the window, a look of what might have been pity on his face.

I don't think I thanked him.

I stared at the paper until I couldn't look at it anymore, so I stuffed it into the pocket of my bright blue parka. In our haste, we'd forgotten of our little dress code.

The paper might as well have been on fire, for all the awareness I graced it on the way back. The image of Lloyd's father kept swimming through my thoughts, one I tried but couldn't reconcile with the image I'd procured of the monster in the woods.

It just didn't make sense.

None of this made sense.

Zane looked as confused as I did, once all the anger disappeared. If it disappeared. Lloyd didn't join us in the basement. In fact, we hadn't even seen him enter the house. I worried he caused a scene upon entering the café, but I couldn't focus on anything when we crawled back through the window.

Zane sat against the couch with a huff, staring at a point past where I could see as his mind raced. His face was so hard and still, I feared it would crack.

"Zane?" I asked once, hoping to get some sort of comfort out of a response.

He didn't so much as move.

We sat up during the night, lying awake in the dark. I hoped that we would speak, but nothing would come to mind other than vague feelings of regret, confusion, and, oddly, anger.

We'd opened a nasty can of worms, poked and prodded at the contents, left it to fester. I was regretting all of it.

I might've eventually fallen asleep, but the room was so dark and quiet that I couldn't tell.

* * *

 **Thank you for reading!**


	35. Chapter 35

**I own nothing but the story.**

* * *

If the night did grace me with sleep, it was only by vague definition. I'd hoped to have another dream that night, a dream where Cole sat down and explained everything to me, but I awoke to gray skies and disappointment.

There was no explanation, and there would be no explanation. Everything was a mess, and I was foolish enough to try and pick it up. I groaned into the pillow, pulling the pink blanket over my head.

It took me a moment to realize I was alone. The air was still around me, and after several moments of the unnatural silence, I realized that it was too still.

The couch was empty; Zane, missing.

I sat up, running a hand over the blanket he'd wrapped himself in the night before. It was cold. So was the rest of the room.

I glanced about the empty basement, finding everything right where it was. Cole's folder lay ripped open and scattered across the table, our bags and its contents littered about the place. Zane was gone.

My face crumpled, and I stood, looking around once more. As angry as we'd gotten with each other, I didn't want to think that he would leave me. My walk around the place was a shuffle, terminated when I heard Misako's muffled voice calling out for her son.

I waited for her to come downstairs, to find me, alone, but she didn't. I'd almost hoped she would.

Her cries went silent after a full half hour, and the only sounds from above were the distant noises of what came from the café.

I sat down on the couch, wishing I was home with my parents, wondering where Zane was. He couldn't have gone far; the folder was still here, but I didn't know how much use he had for it anymore. And Misako was looking for Lloyd…so Lloyd was gone, too. I frowned.

Were they together? Why would they leave me?

I looked towards the window. Cold air leaked through a small crack where someone had forgotten to shut it all the way.

Or where someone had crawled out.

Zane. Where had he gone?

A sigh escaped me as the beginnings of a headache teased at my temple. I don't know if I ever felt the phrase, "the weight of the world," so surely on my shoulders as I did then. The woods watched me as I crawled out, but I didn't spare it a glance.

I couldn't believe yet that Zane would go in there, but he might be in town.

I figured that I should have worn those mixed-up coats that we agreed to do to disguise ourselves, but I, frankly, just didn't care anymore. I doubt anyone noticed, anyway. The walk through town was a dazed one; the world felt like it was moving around me, rather than with me. If Lou or anyone was there to notice me, they wouldn't. We existed on separate planes, now.

Lloyd might have been at school, but the fact that Zane was gone and that my gut feelings had never been so pronounced convinced me that they were together. After yesterday, they would have to be.

Hours passed, and I wasn't even sure where I was looking, anymore.

Somehow, I found Dareth's dojo, now open and absent of Lou's car. When I walked inside, he stood before a group of ten-year-olds, arms hovering in the air as he taught them something that had to do with giraffes and nothing to do with martial arts. The surprise on his face would have been comical in any other universe.

"Jay?" he said, mouth hanging half open.

The children looked, and I gestured for Dareth to follow me.

The bar and the dojo were connected by a single hallway filled with framed photos ranging from still lifes to crude fakes of Dareth's many feats. We walked as far from the children as we could get, and I asked if he'd seen Lloyd or Zane.

"I saw Lloyd walk by with a shovel this morning," said Dareth, smiling at first, but fading fast, "I haven't seen your buddy Zane, though."

I frowned, and Dareth continued.

"You alright?" asked he, "You look like you've seen a ghost."

He didn't know the half of it.

"Zane's gone, and I don't know where he would go," I whispered, rubbing a hand at the back of my scalp, "He was so insistent about remaining hidden, but now he's gone."

Dareth brought a hand to his chin, letting out a dramatic, "Hmm…"

"I thought he might be with Lloyd," I said, apprehension turning fast into worry, "But I don't know where he—they would go."

"Well, I had to start class shortly after I saw Lloyd—" said Dareth, "So if Zane went by, I didn't see him, but Lloyd was heading up town, if that helps you out."

I looked at him, "What's up town?"

Dareth shrugged, "Town hall, the library, the cemetery, more woods, of course."

Something unpleasant began curdling deep within my gut, but I pushed the feeling aside the best I could as I asked one more question, "Dareth," I said, "Have you seen a man by the name of Lou Brookstone, recently?"

Dareth frowned, "Is he a tall guy with a beard and only one leg?"

"N-no?"

Dareth shook his head, "Probably not. You see, I invite some rather tough patrons—"

I waved a hand, the feeling inside of me rearing its head and making me sick. Something was wrong.

It was a slow feeling, one that creeps into the gut almost unnoticed, like the way a mother feels watching her child drive off in a car, both knowing but not knowing that her child would get in a crash later that day. When I left, I followed this feeling in the direction of "up town", using it as a guide through the streets.

As I walked, my pace got faster with every step I took. Dareth said Lloyd went by with a shovel.

Something was wrong.

Something has been wrong for a while, but today, it was catching up with me like a tidal wave, crushing and too fast to fight.

Very wrong.

I bypassed the library and town hall, knowing that they wouldn't be there. Though there were several other buildings along the streets, I was drawn to the very end, where iron gates marked the entrance to a tiny cemetery.

I froze upon seeing it; the graveyard was old and carved out of the trees, practically inside the woods. I couldn't go into the woods.

But there, over a hill and behind the trunk of a massive pine, the dirtied hood of Zane's white jacket peeked out, a pale hand covered in dirt rested against the bark, twitching as he spoke to someone outside of my line of sight.

It didn't take a genius to figure out who it was.

I bolted over as fast as my legs could carry, feeling dread frighteningly like the day we found Cole lying dead in a ditch, only this time, I didn't have the comfort of my family or the wellbeing of my friends to share the pain with.

I called Zane's name, but the sound came out like a cry as I hopped through graves as old as three centuries. Trees stretched high above us, and I was sure that they were going to swallow us whole, eat us alive and spit us out, nothing left but bones.

When I reached the hill Zane was hidden behind, I was met with a cold stare, and a sight so chilling, I was sure that all the blood drained from my body right at that second.

Lloyd looked up at me, face and hands covered with a mix of dirt and mud. His expression was as frozen as Zane's; resigned, a little scared, but too prideful to show it.

Time itself seemed to stop as I looked at what he was doing; nature herself held her breath.

He had a shovel in his hands; he was standing in a ditch, before a small, gray headstone.

 _Garmadon_ was written across it.

Lloyd was digging up his father's grave.


	36. Chapter 36

**Computer issues prevented me from both writing and updating this story over the past month. Sorry for the delay, and thank you for your patience.**

* * *

Seconds passed…or was it hours? Either way, we stood there in silence, any conversation we might have said done through a series of unspoken emotions rather than words.

 _What on earth are you doing?_ I said, though I knew exactly what they were doing, even if my brain couldn't process it.

Zane glared at me, as if I was the enemy in this situation, and Lloyd had his jaw set into a pout, one that said, _I dare you to try and stop me._

Though I didn't want to be the first to speak, my body spoke on its own accord, whispering a word released in a breath, "Why?"

Lloyd set his jaw, then glanced away as he shoveled the tool deep into hardened dirt. I blinked. This couldn't be real. How could I, a kid, just a teen, ever end up in a situation like this? I almost wanted to pinch myself, but I hadn't woken up from this nightmare in the past two months, so I surely wouldn't now.

Zane's eyes were cold, like two pebbles at the bottom of a frozen stream. "We have to know," he said.

A chilly wind began to blow, and I stood rooted at the spot, unable to believe my eyes, not wanting to.

"L-Lloyd," I said.

"Don't!" said he, swinging dirt into a large pile, too large, "I need to know."

"This isn't right," I stepped towards Zane, unable to bring myself closer to the grave, "This is sick!"

"Cole is dead," said Zane, expression set in stiff resignation, "There's hardly something right about that."

"You're digging up a grave!"

"He's _my_ father," Lloyd suddenly growled, "I have a right to know if he's here!"

Maybe so, but not like this.

"Lloyd," I said, "You can't—"

"I will!" Lloyd released a shout that sounded dangerously close to a sob, "He was the first to die!"

Terror took hold somewhere deep in my gut, and my fists shook as I balled them up.

"Did you put him up to this, Zane?"

"Of course not," Zane's teeth were set, "It was his idea. I merely joined him."

"This is sick," I gestured vaguely towards the headstone, "This is sick, and you know it."

Zane's voice dropped low, "We have to know, Jay."

"Like this!?" my own voice rose, "We can't do this!"

"We have to if we want to find out what killed Cole."

"Not like this—"

Zane's nostrils flared, "Then how?! How else will we find out what happened?"

"I—" hell if I knew, "I don't know, but any other way—"

"We've tried every other way!" Zane was shouting now, "We must know!"

"Stop saying that! Cole wouldn't have wanted this!"

"Who are you to say what Cole wants!" Zane's eyes flashed, Lloyd continued his digging, the thump of dirt hitting the earth ever-present, "Our friend is dead!"

I threw out my hands, cursing the world for ever getting me to a point where I wanted to punch Zane in the face, "So you're just going to go dig up someone's grave?" I looked at Lloyd as I tried to plea, "Another victim's grave?"

"We have to know!" Zane repeated, and my frustration reared its nasty head.

"Why this?!"

"Because, you hellkite," Zane was shaking, "I won't be able to live with myself unless we do this!"

"What?" I breathed, "Why? Good grief, why?"

"Because I killed him, Jay!" Zane's voice cracked, and the earth shattered with it, "I killed him, I killed my friend!"

There was a horrible, boundless second that passed, where I stopped, Zane stopped, Lloyd stopped, everything stopped.

Then, slowly, snowflakes fell, and Zane began to cry.

* * *

 **Thank you for reading!**


	37. Chapter 37

Zane's sobs were visceral in the silence, pain rolling off his shaking shoulders in violent waves. He pressed his palms to his face, holding them there like they were the only things keeping him from falling apart. Given the way his body shook with tremors, it didn't appear to be working.

I don't know how long I stood there, nor why I didn't immediately rush to his side, but time seemed lost as Zane sobbed, his face in his hands, shoulders heaving. Snowflakes fell heavy over the three of us, but I had eyes only for Zane as all my anger dissipated in an instant.

"Zane?" I said, voice off. It was broken.

He just stood there; he didn't even glance up.

I wanted to reach forward, put my arms around him, hug him close so we could forget all this, but I couldn't move, the adrenaline of our argument still pumping fast through my veins. No one could; not Lloyd, not me, not even the world could turn.

"Zane," I merely repeated, at a loss to say anything else. "You didn't—what?"

"I did," Zane choked out, eyes still hidden behind two pale palms, "It's my fault. I killed Cole."

He looked on the verge of collapse; his knees shook as he spoke. I stepped forward.

"You wanted to go back," Zane said, strained and reedy, "When we lost him, you wanted to go back. I said no."

I didn't know what he was talking about; I took another step forward.

"And he was there," said Zane, "He was there, and we weren't, and I killed him, Jay."

He did collapse then, sinking to the ground on his knees. At last, I managed to reach him, but I couldn't bring myself to touch him. My hand hung uselessly in the air.

"You're talking nonsense," said I, reeling and nearly breathless, "You didn't kill him." I turned a desperate eye towards Lloyd, the only other person who could help us now, but he gazed sullenly on, the shovel held still in bare, bleeding hands.

"You cannot tell me you don't remember," said Zane, sinking into the earth like he expected it to swallow him, "It's all I can think about. Every night. If I'd just turned around…"

As he spoke, a vague memory came crawling back to me, from behind a door I kept locked tight; white-knuckled fingers gripping a steering wheel, a steady gaze on a long, dark, winding road, and a trail of messy footprints, skidding a path not thirty feet from where we'd been parked.

 _You left,_ the Cole from my dreams had said to me, and suddenly Zane's words made sense.

I dropped down beside him, uncaring of the cold that bit through my jeans, and put my arms around his shoulders, not necessarily hoping to still them—we were past that—but hoping for some sort of stability. "Zane—"

Zane's sobs were the quiet kind, but he wailed. I'd never heard a more awful sound. I held him close, tucking his head beneath my chin, utterly terrified.

"It's not your fault, Zane," I whispered to deaf ears.

"You wanted to go back," he said, "I said no."

"It's not your fault," I repeated.

How long had he been holding this in?

"It is," said Zane, looking up long enough to gaze at me with eyes the color of heartbreak, "If we'd gone back, we could've saved him. But I killed him, Jay. I'm the reason he's dead."

He put his head back into his arms, pressing himself into the earth. He looked lower than dirt, and I expected he felt as much, too. Frankly, I wasn't doing much better. Beside us, Lloyd began to dig again.

"You," I tried, mouth working, words failing. I tried thinking of what to say, but there were no words to fix this. Darn it all if I wasn't going to try, though, "You know what?" I said, coming to a conclusion, "You're right. We could've saved him."

Zane shook.

"But you know what else?" I said, raising my voice to make sure he could hear, "We could've died too. We could've gone back and walked right into that creature's jaws."

At this, Lloyd flinched, but Zane stilled. We were both practically laying against the earth. It smelled of decay.

"You know what else?" I continued, "We could've gone back, and nothing would've changed. We would've searched for hours and found nothing. That could've happened."

I rubbed my hand against his back, hating the anger and confusion I'd held for him in this past week, hating that Zane helped foster it.

That he'd thought such things for months.

"We both agreed to leave in the first place. We both agreed that getting help was the best thing for us. It wasn't your fault," I said, voice growing smaller as I tried not to cry, "None of this is. The way those footprints were laid, Cole probably didn't even know the road was there. What happened was a bad situation that could only get worse. That's not your fault. This is just…life being a bitch."

Perhaps not the most eloquent way of putting it, but I believed it, and I hoped Zane did, too. He still lay there, heaving sobs he'd pent up for months. I let him cry, hoping that I was helping him. When he finally looked up again, he turned his head and stared somewhere far away. His eyes were full of ghosts.

"You made the best decisions for us at the time," I rubbed my hand over his back again, praying he could hear me, "Please know that. You did right by us."

He didn't look like he believed me, though it was hard to read his face. He was expressionless, the tears running down his dirty face the only indication that life lurked somewhere deep inside of him.

He looked tired. Exhausted. Dead.

"None of this is your fault," I said again, swearing to say it for the rest of my life so long as he might someday hear me, "You made the best decision for us."

Taking his hand, I gathered us to our feet. He didn't protest. Though he was taller, I put my arm around his shoulders as I began walking him out of the graveyard. I'd had enough of this. I was taking him home. Perhaps someday, I could return on my own and figure out what happened, but now, I'd had enough.

We left Lloyd still digging for his father's casket.

* * *

 **Thank you for reading!**


	38. Chapter 38

Zane's car was still covered with dead vines and shriveled leaves when we returned. I didn't bother moving them as I tucked Zane into the passenger's seat. Throughout the path back he'd been a zombie—shuffling instead of walking, empty gaze hanging low with his head. Even his eyes looked more grey than blue.

I understood why; I couldn't imagine how I'd fare, tormented by the thoughts Zane confessed to me. I was barely surviving now.

Tucking a blanket around him and making sure to run the heat, I left him sitting in the car. I went back to the basement, crawling in through the window and getting our stuff. Despite our lack of luggage, we'd managed to scatter everything in odd corners and crannies. It was a wonder we weren't found. I tidied up the best I could, desperate to return home.

Though I doubted returning would fix the problems we'd created for ourselves, they would be easier to deal with in the comfort of my own bed, at ease with the knowledge that these woods were far away from me.

Of course, there was the mess of dealing with my worried parents, my friends. How could I explain to them where we'd been, what we'd been doing? It was an ugly question that I didn't like thinking about, so I pushed it aside and focused on the mindless task of cleaning.

Before I crawled out the basement window for the last time, I slid Cole's folder into the dusty gap between the wall and the sofa, hoping that it wouldn't be found for years to come.

Had I my way, I'd never have to look at it again.

I tried not to look at the woods as I walked to the car.

I threw our backpacks in the trunk, shivering against the cold as I climbed into the front seat. Though the snow was light, it had not stopped falling.

I pulled the seat up so my feet could reach the pedals. Placing my hands against the steering wheel, I debated pulling the vehicle out of park.

Leaving seemed so easy, a choice right within my reach.

But the snow kept falling, and I wasn't moving. Zane was asleep beside me, head tucked between the crook of the door and the headrest. He hadn't even buckled himself in. His confession had drained him, I supposed. I remembered my mother once telling me that sleeping is what the grieving do; it gives the brain time to sort out its chemistry.

Looking at him, I wondered if that's what he was doing. Zane hadn't allowed himself to grieve, that much was clear. But was he finally taking the first step down a long road to healing? Asleep, he didn't look like much.

Nevertheless, I felt better about seeing him sleep. I only hoped he wouldn't suffer nightmares I knew he had. He needed rest; he'll be better tomorrow. If just a little, he'll be better. Once we were home.

I told myself slam the accelerator and get out of here without looking back. Then Lloyd popped into my head, uninvited like he usually is. The idea of leaving him behind after a bombshell of discovery hurt in a way that it didn't before.

He was still digging, as far as I knew. Could I leave him like that and live with myself afterwards? The question pushed at my thoughts, tugging on feelings that made me angry. I desperately wanted to leave, to speed off without so much as looking to see where I was going other than 'away', but a small or large enough part of me wished to stay. We'd come so far, further than anyone. At the very least, Cole deserved the world to know what happened to him.

The other names drifted at the edge of my thoughts, even Garmadon's. Did they deserve this, too?

I thought about it until nightfall. I hated myself and my inability to move, but the entire time I sat there, Lloyd didn't come back. Maybe I was expecting him to stop us. Though the car was running and ready to go, I pulled the keys out of the ignition, hating myself and hating that my hands still shook from talking to Zane earlier.

For now, I tucked them into my pockets of my coat and rolled the seat back. With nothing else to think about, I decided to put off the decision until tomorrow.

If the grieving sleep, maybe tomorrow I could think straight.

* * *

 _Skrk; skrk; skrk._

 _Something is scratching at my window. I open my eyes to a world of white and a chill to match. Beside me, Zane still sleeps, his breath coming out as a fog. The windows are blanketed with a thin layer of snow, closing off the outside in a way that's almost claustrophobic._

 _I shake my head as someone scratches again._

 _Confused, I look towards my window and see a pale, nearly white hand wipe away the snow, unaffected by the cold. Outside, a ratty looking teen stares at me, teeth set like he's agitated._

 _I don't recognize him._

 _He's got long black hair that's equal parts stringy and greasy, and his teeth look like flint corn—spotted different colors._

 _I blink as he stares straight through me. Something is off about him. The outside world is covered in snow, but he's nothing more than a T-shirt and torn jeans._

 _His head sits crooked on his neck. It's almost unnatural, and the longer I look, the worse it gets. I wait for him to speak, but he seems to be doing the same thing to me. I turn to Zane and debate waking him up._

 _The kid scratches at the window again._

 _I frown at him. Something about him seems familiar to me, but I don't know why. I've never seen him before._

 _Eventually I ask, whispering to keep Zane from waking, "What do you want?"_

 _For some reason, it doesn't occur to me to be polite to him. Maybe it's the way he snarls instead of smiles, or looks past you instead of at you, but something about this kid spells bad news._

 _If he notices the tone, he doesn't give any indication as he wipes clear the rest of the window. I don't appreciate the action despite it making me feel better about being able to see. It bothers me that his hands and arms are bare. This kid is unhealthily pale._

 _As I watch, he moves one long, skinny arm and extends it to a point towards the forest, hauntingly beautiful under the soft touch of snow._

 _The kid—the name Morro comes to mind, though I don't know how or why—points underneath the trees, where the shadows stand watching us._

 _I blink. No, they're not shadows, they're people. There must be a hundred of them, standing just beyond the point of recognition, watching me from the woods. The sight of them frightens me. Why are there so many people?_

 _Morro looks back at me, saying with a tone like nails on a chalkboard, "It's like this, Jay. This thing's been around for hundreds of years."_

 _This. Like this. I look at the people. Their heads are turning as they whisper at each other, but I can neither hear them nor see their faces. I wonder if Cole is among them._

" _It needs a host to feed. It needs to feed to live. It robs the years right off you," says Morro, staring intensely. He knocks on the window, hard, "What are you going to do about this, punk? What are you going to do?"_

 _I hardly know the answer to his question. I don't even know what he's talking about. Where is Cole? I look around while Morro continues to knock on the window._

 _He's got long nails, almost like talons._

* * *

I awoke to the sound of knocking on the window. Around me, snow topped a thin layer over the hood and ground, but the window beside me was clear.

And I was cold. I was freezing.

Confused, I glanced about and spotted a pale hand against the glass next to my face. Unlike Morro's hand—had that been Morro? I wasn't sure—this one was flushed with life around the knuckles and joints; they're bleeding.

I looked up to find Lloyd staring back at me, face white as a sheet.

* * *

 **Thank you for reading!**


	39. Chapter 39

"Are you leaving?" Lloyd asked after I'd gotten out of the car.

At some point, night turned to morning; the sun was white over grey clouds.

"Why?" Lloyd looked frightened, almost betrayed, "Why would you do that?"

"Did you not see what happened to Zane?" some of my old animosity leaked into my voice without me meaning so, but I was agitated, "It isn't healthy for us to be here."

"Oh, boo-hoo," Lloyd was hurt at the tone, and I felt bad, "I _live_ here! It's not fair for you to come back, mess around, then leave. It's not fair."

"Life isn't fair, kiddo," I said, though I always hated that saying, myself, "If it was, I'd have made it to the city."

With Cole in the backseat, Zane smiling at the wheel.

"And I'd have a dad," Lloyd frowned a moment before something flashed in his eyes, and he said, voice shaking, "My dad—Jay, he wasn't there. He wasn't there, Jay!"

His voice rose with each word, so riddled with fear the words themselves seemed to quiver in the air. I couldn't deny that I felt the same way. Some primal type of fear, both scared and sickened bubbled in my gut. Lloyd had dug up his father's casket, opened it.

"He wasn't there…" I repeated, unable to believe my ears.

The world was a mirror image of itself, the same one I'd known before, but different to the point that I couldn't recognize a thing. I couldn't go home in a world like this; I'd get lost. How could I go home when I was just as trapped as Lloyd and Zane and all those people in the woods?

Lloyd had dug up his father's casket. The thing in the woods—it was impossible. Or was it?

"How?"

"I don't know," Lloyd looked like he was about to cry, "There were scratches on the lid."

That was enough to make my stomach churn. His father wasn't dead. But what had happened eight years ago, when he'd spoken to Lloyd for the last time?

 _It was so pretty._

Morro's words came to me.

 _It's like this, Jay…_

Pieces of this jigsaw were coming together, but I couldn't make sense of the picture it made.

"Jay…" came Lloyd's voice.

I looked up and found Lloyd pressing a hand against his forehead, voice thick.

"If my dad has been out there this whole time," he said, breathing slow and deep, "If he's been the one killing these people…" his chin quivered.

I couldn't imagine how he must be feeling. In fact, it hadn't even occurred to me how he must be feeling; I was so wrapped up in my own problems. Without thinking, I stepped forward and hugged him, pulling him close. He held onto me tight, breaths shaky and uneven. His hands were cold.

I didn't tell him that all will be okay, because at that point, I didn't know what to make of anything. So, I just held him, offering a steady shoulder in a world that quaked.

When Lloyd pulled himself together, and we parted, Zane sat staring at us on top of his hood, perched like he'd been there the whole time. It made me jerk to see his face, which was different from the day before.

"Zane!" I said, "What are you—how are you feeling?"

It was a stupid question that made me cringe to say it, but Zane seemed unaffected as he stood. He still moved like he was underwater, all slow and hazy, but he looked alive.

"I have been better," he said, voice quiet, but strong. Glancing between the two of us, he added, voice husky and almost a whisper, "I am…sorry for my behavior over the past few months. I'm sorry to you, Lloyd, for being so callous, and Jay," he locked eyes with me, "I'm sorry for being so cruel. You didn't deserve that."

I almost cried. Shaking my head, I moved towards him, "No, I'm sorry. I knew you were in pain. I should have done more to reach out to you."

"You did everything you could," continued Zane, not quite retreating at my approach, but stiffening nonetheless, "I refused to be helped, and I suffered for it. I've no one to blame but myself."

"You're wrong," I said, truly believing it. There were many ways I feel we both could have helped each other, but it's easy to think that while looking back. Now, I just wanted to help Zane move forward. Glancing Lloyd's way, I decided I wanted to help him too.

But Zane shook his head as he moved on in conversation, "There's little we can do about that now," he turned to Lloyd, "Garmadon was not in his grave," he said, sparks of a life long dormant crackling in his eyes, "His death was different from the others."

Lloyd nodded, intrigued at Zane's change, as well. I was happy to hear Zane talk, but I still wished to discuss the events of yesterday, inquire about Zane's well-being. He couldn't simply want to move on with the case, not after what it'd done to us.

"What do we do?" asked Lloyd, voice desperate and terrified, "Where do we go from here?"

Zane thought, bringing his hand up to his chin in an echo of his old personality. I almost couldn't believe my eyes. Of course, there was a lot I couldn't believe.

"If I may ask," Zane eventually said, voice low, "What was it like when you looked into the grave?"

"What do you think?" Lloyd sounded incredulous, "Empty."

"Then," said Zane, "I guess we'll have to find him."

We stared at him, at each other. How could we possibly do that?

I took another step towards him, balancing my fingers on the hood of the car; wanting to touch him, but wanting to respect what space he might need. "Do you really want to move on with this case?"

Zane stared at the car, gaze empty, but thoughtful. He nodded, "I do. That's why I came here, and that's why I'm staying," he turned to face Lloyd, "Your father deserves that, as does my friend, and the rest of these people. We have to find this thing in the woods, for it cannot simply be your father."

Lloyd frowned, "But…"

"He's right," I said, staring at Zane, my friend, "It's something else. I don't know how to explain it, but I had a dream last night—a kid, I think it was Morro?—mentioned something about a host, and feeding."

"Host?" Lloyd frowned.

"Dream?" said Zane.

Saying it out loud, I began to feel embarrassed, but I continued, "Yes, dreams. I've been getting them a lot recently. People—usually Cole approaches me and give me…clues." I wasn't sure how else to say it. "That's how I knew to take the fingerprint sheet to Ronin."

Zane continued staring at me. His eyes were wide, but before I could say anything else, Lloyd asked, "Is the host like a parasite?"

I turned and shook my head, "Maybe not a physical one." Especially since all the bodies had been left behind, almost untouched. I'll admit that I was never sure about an afterlife when it came to death, but something was out there, if Garmadon's missing corpse was any indication.

"I don't know," I said, "He said that it feeds…to live, but I don't know what it would feed on, since all the bodies were apparently found."

"Not all of them," said Lloyd, "Some are still missing."

"The woods are large," said Zane, gaze distant as he thought, "That couldn't mean anything. And frankly," he looked to me, "How sure of this…theory…are you?"

His eyes were searching mine, and I wondered if I should tell him more about the other dreams, how they got us to this point. "It is just a theory," I said, "but I'd stake my life that there's something to it."

Zane stared and stared and stared some more, but he nodded.

"All the same," I continued, fueled and almost elated at the gesture, "I think this might be another body hunt."

Lloyd grimaced.

"If we find Garmadon," I said, "We might just figure this out."

* * *

 **Well, I wasn't going to update today, but then I realized that today is the two year anniversary of this story! *cries in frustration***

 **I'd like to thank each of you for sticking with this thing. I'll try not to string you along for another year.**

 **As always, thank you for reading!**


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